Synchronicity
by Elodie J
Summary: You'd think that a building full of glass would probably be a terrible place to hide. You'd probably be wrong. :AU, criminals, highschool:
1. Injury

_OD: This _fanfiction_ on a _fan fiction_ website. In the immortal words of Stan 'the Man' Lee: 'Nuff said. _

**Synchronicity**  
Chapitré Un: Injury

_I'm a perfect stranger who knows you too well_

His graffiti-covered converse slap the concrete as he storms down the midday sidewalk, making sure to step on every single crack he passes. Without so much as glancing up from his music player, he dodges other pedestrians, most of whom simply ignore the oddly dressed boy. Resisting the urge to scream or growl or _hit_ someone, he tugs on the brim of his hat, a vintage fedora that looks even more out of place than the person wearing it.

He wants to be drowning in red, a color to match the pounding headache. Of course, he knows that any song that makes him see red is probably only going to make the headache worse, but he's so worked up he can't seem to find the will to care. Finally finding a suitable choice, he adjusts his ear buds and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. In a strange sort of irony, the music that's blaring through his ear buds calms him slightly. The song's blatantly cerulean blue title never fails to throw him off, but it's a perfect pissed-off song - and Fai D. Fluorite is _certainly_ pissed off. Its black, pounding backbeat coming from the heavy bass drum and angry red melody allows him to momentarily redirect his anger in the form of furiously lip-synched lyrics. He's tired and cold and annoyed and maybe even a little scared because today has been one hell of a ride.

His morning had begun at a record three a.m. - only one hour after he'd finally managed to fall into a restless sleep - with a call from the hospital, of all places. (He hates hospitals more than anything else. Just thinking of needles or blood makes him feel faint and he's seen too many people go in and never come out of the things not to resent them.) After walking the ten blocks in the unfamiliar pitch-black night, he arrived and was forced to wait for _two _whole hours before receiving news that it was only a false alarm. A wrong turn on the trek back home meant he took an extra hour getting back and missed the bus _and_ homeroom. Walking all the way through the lower districts just to make Study Skills or whatever stupid name they gave study hall was not an option. He wasted a few hours pretending to work on homework and making snacks, but by the time the sun began to sink, he'd run out of interesting things to do. So he decided that a walk around the block to clear his head would do him some good.

It isn't any good at all, really. He's already walked past his café three times now, and he's only cooler in the literal sense (it's twenty degree weather and he only thought to bring a thin trench coat and _fingerless_ gloves), no less annoyed than he was twenty minutes ago. Walking around just gives him more time to think about the unfairness and general stupidity of the world, firing him back up every time he thinks he's got himself back under control.

He shivers again, glad he's coming up on his building. It's too cold here in this strange city. If it's not raining then it's snowing or at least below freezing, it seems. Nothing like home.

He reaches out and grabs the beige stone corner, intending to swing around the corner like you might swirl around a pole. He closes his eyes as he goes around, but before he can even wonder what's happened something rams into his left shoulder and he's flat on his back, a searing pain ripping through his right eye.

"Hey, watch where you're go - oi."

He gasps, lungs starved of air, and he cracks open his left eye, world blurry and indistinguishable.

"Hey, kid."

He opens his other eye, immediately wincing again from the new shot of pain. Sitting up, he touches his eyebrow and feels like falling back down when he realizes the wet, red stuff on his fingers is blood. With his left hand, he frantically feels his head for the fedora, praying to every god he can think of that there's no damage.

"Hey, kid. Can you hear me, or are you deaf?"

His music's stopped playing, the player squished in the fall. Fai removes the blue ear buds, looking over to his left, face blank. A teenager, probably not much older than he himself, is holding out the worn hat and crouching next to him. Fai accepts the hat with his clean hand, placing it back on his head at steep angle to keep it away from the blood. While he's wiping his dirty fingers on his jacket, the other boy notices the blood and grabs his head, turning it around to let him examine the cut.

"Jeezus, kid, you're gonna need some stitches," he breathes, letting go of the injured boy's chin and standing up, pulling Fai up with him by the collar of his jacket.

Fai immediately recoils at the thought of being sewn up and desperately tries to wriggle away from the taller boy's firm hold. "No! I just got back from the hospital and I do _not_ plan on going back. I've got a first aid kit here in my café so I'll just take care of it myself," he says, gesturing towards the café he just smacked into.

The other eyes him warily. "I'll go with you," he says with a look that screams 'I'm not going to give in so just deal with it'.

Sighing, Fai pulls away and walks over to the door. "Fine. But if you touch anything, I will kill you," he says, not bothering to so much as glance back.

~-~

The Cat's Eye Café is a wholly remarkable building. Compared to the skyscrapers around it, it's rather small. The beige sandstone-like building material doesn't help it blend into the grey background of the business district, either. The first floor is equally out of place; the west wall is taken up by a single, floor to ceiling window. (No small feat; the first floor of the Cat's Eye is nearly two stories tall.) It provides a striking view of the small park across the way, the passing automobiles a striking contrast to the gentle sakura trees behind them. All of the other walls are generously decorated with paintings in enormous frames, and, higher up, scabbards and guns and all manner of strange antiques. It's a wonder that the paneling doesn't buckle under the weight, but the dark wood holds surprisingly well. Despite the oddly high ceiling and covered walls, the floor plan is open and empty, oddly lacking in furniture or seating of any kind.

"Holy..." the stranger trails off, staring upwards.

"Yeah," Fai calls from the staircase. He's already made it up a half-flight of stairs to the bathroom, and is in the process of dragging a massive white first-aid kit back down the stairwell. The box must be at least twice the size of any standard first-aid kit, and it certainly must weigh more. "Like I said: you touch it, you die. All that's real valuable, old antiques. Family heirlooms, you might say."

"I got that," he says softly. "It's just... a lot of stuff."

"My parents kind of came into a fortune a little while back. And now it's decoration in a soon-to-be café. Go figure," Fai huffs, dropping the box on the floor with a loud thud. He sits down on the bottom step and flips the lid up, revealing an impressive assortment of bandages and bottles and all kinds of strange medical things that the stranger can't even think to name. "You really don't have to be here, you know. I can take care of this real easy - I've gotten worse scratches," he says, putting on his brightest smile and wiping the blood that's run down the side of his face with a washcloth.

"Hate to break it to you, kid, but that's not a scratch," the teenager insists, squinting at Fai. "What were you doing out in this weather in the middle of the day, anyways? Don't you have school or something?"

"I could ask you the same, stranger. How about we do some introductions?" he says, smile faltering only as he applies two butterfly adhesives to the gash.

"Kurogane Suwa. I'm a sophomore at Aceline - the Arts place. Visual Arts Magnet, specifically photography. I'm out in the city on an assignment," he says, tapping the camera hanging around his neck. "You?"

"Kurogane Suwa. Kurogane," says Fai, as if to test the name. "No, that won't do. What about Kuro-rin? That's got a nice color, I think. Suwa's not bad, I suppose, but Kuro-tan is infinitely better."

"What are you talking about? And quit screwing with my name. You haven't even given me yours _or_ why you were out," Kurogane growls, his squinting turning into a glare.

"Ah, you're not a grapheme-color, then. Figures, for a photographer. Anyways, I'm also a student at Aceline Mathys School for the Arts, so I do know it. I'm Fai D. Fluorite, and this place is the Cat's Eye, opening next week," he says in a sing-song voice. "You're so demanding, Kuro-pon. If you're so annoyed, you're free to leave. I'm not keeping you here."

"Oi, kid. I told you to quit it with the name thing - and give me that," he says, snatching away the roll of gauze and undoing the last few wrappings. "You're doing a terrible job."

Swallowing the urge to flinch at the physical contact, Fai allows Kurogane to re-wrap his head. He pokes Kurogane in the abs, smiling up at him. "You're awfully well-toned for a photographer. You've got to be an athlete - I'm guessing some kind of martial arts? You could go for soccer or football, but I doubt it. Demeanor's all wrong."

Kurogane glares back. "Just so you know, I'm first dan in Tae Kwon Do but I haven't kept up with it since middle school. I think you've got a concussion or something. You're just talking crazy now. And you're still not telling me much about yourself - what's your magnet? Com? Visual?"

Fai sighs. "I'm taking a few standard courses - Lit and Calculus - and then I've got French Lit for my foreign language, Theatre, World History, Design, Creative Writing, and of course Study Skills or whatever it is they call it."

"You, Flowright! They all mispronounce your name so I didn't think of it right away but Jeezus! _You're_ the weird floater kid?" Kurogane says, tugging a little too hard on the gauze.

"Seems my reputation's bigger than I thought. I wonder if anyone at Ace hasn't heard of me yet? Next thing you know I'll be getting teased by freshmeat. So to answer your question, Kuro-rinta, yes, I'm the floater. But could you please stop pulling on my head?"

Realizing he's still holding the gauze, Kurogane finishes the wrapping and steps back. "Again with the names! You don't look like a junior, either. You're tallish, but you could probably pass as some of that freshmeat yourself. How'd you ever get into Ace?"

"Don't judge a book by its cover, silly Kuro-pipi. There's more to me than meets the eye," he laughs, placing the gauze back in its container and shutting the lid. "Before you go, would you like a cup of hot chocolate? The Cat's Eye isn't officially open yet, but I can make an exception in your case." He stands up and turns around, heading towards the counter and equipment.

"I'll have a cup of coffee," Kurogane says, staring at him oddly, "if you've got it. I hate sweet stuff. And only if you'll quit it with the nicknames. I hardly know you."

"Ah, but you do know me, Kuro-myu! I'm the famous Flowright floater." He laughs again, even though he obviously doesn't think that his school-wide nickname is funny in the least. "Everyone knows me. And you'll like this sweet stuff, cross my heart and hope to die. No one's ever hated it - not even those rarities that don't like chocolate. It's _divine_."

"What kind of person describes anything as divine? You talk weird," Kurogane huffs, but he doesn't protest the hot chocolate anymore because Fai's already in the process of making it.

"I think _you_ talk oddly, Kuro-ryu. This city is very different from the ones I'm from. Shorter, for one. A little smaller, but definitely more driven," Fai almost yells, the machine temporarily drowning out most noise.

"You're a strange kid," Kurogane shouts back. "That accent and that hat and jacket - you're worse than most of the theatre department."

"This, coming from a VMA? I must admit, they're a pretty capricious group. Bohemian lot and that, but they're really not that bad. I knew worse, once upon a time. If you'd take the chance to actually get to know some of the painters and fashionistas, they aren't so strange. Like my Theatre class; they've got some, ah, interesting wardrobes but it's only self-expression. I figure you can understand that much, Kuro-la, as a photographer. Though I'm guessing you're more into cityscapes than abstract expressionism." This last sentence isn't even remotely phrased as a question; Fai simply states it as fact.

"How the - never mind. I probably don't wanna know how. I like the downtown district and so most of my pics come from there. I wanna capture what's there, not screw with it to make the subject look like something else," he says, accepting the hot mug warily. He sniffs it, chocolate overwhelming his senses.

"I figured as much. You're too sensible and disciplined. Probably goes against your stout sense of order. You're observant, quick mentally and physically, organized but not overly so, and don't mind the occasional spontaneity - schedules are more like outlines than detailed plans. As far as goofing off goes, you're pretty serious but you open up around friends, which are generally few but very close. You like being surrounded by activity and life, even if you don't participate in it. You've probably got some other reason for loving downtown, though you're ninety-nine point nine repeating percent likely not going to tell me what that reason is. Am I missing anything?" Fai says, taking a sip out of his own mug and stepping out from behind the counter.

"Are you some kind of freak mind-reader?" Kurogane stares at Fai, searching for an answer.

"No, just terribly well-accomplished in the art of people reading." Fai pauses, closing his eyes and taking another swig of his hot chocolate. It's elementary, my dear Kuro-chi; your outward, public personality is a bit gruff, somewhat short-tempered. Despite this, you've got a good sense of wrong and right, because you stayed with me to make sure I was alright after banging my head. You felt responsible, ergo, you tried to fix things in a sort of apology."

"Who're you calling gruff and short-tempered?"

"You, Kuro-puu. Weren't you listening? Mais c'est un peu de chose. J'ai plus! You have not left yet! I would have, were I you. In the same vein of responsibility and honor and such, you've admitted to being a martial artist, and a high ranked one at that. That means dedication and extraordinary discipline; it takes years and years to get where you are, and quitters and anyone who's not completely passionate about it will ever reach that level."

Kurogane snorts. "Got that much right."

"No interrupting! I am still not done. Because you are also a photographer, you must be observant and because you spend so much time downtown, you are obviously street-smart and quick-witted, and attracted to the hustle and bustle of city life. As you do not seem to be a people person, you would probably rather be surrounded than immersed in it. You do not understand the extreme artists, the social castoffs, so you have a high sense of order and rationality." Fai smiles, finishing off the last of his hot chocolate. "Alors, c'est pas difficile."

"I'm not a French student, Fluorite. Speak English."

"Eh? Sorry, I'm a little lightheaded. It is easier to speak _en français_because I do not have to think as hard," he says, his hundred-watt smile faltering for only a split-second. "By the way, did you enjoy the chocolate?"

"It wasn't bad," Kurogane concedes. "You know, I still think you're weird but you're nothing like the rumors. They never mention you having an accent or speaking perfect French. Or dressing like you're from a black-and-white film."

"I told you, Kuro-rinta. You cannot ever judge a book by its cover; I may be quick to assess you, but I certainly will not underestimate you," Fai slurs, accent growing even thicker. Kurogane can barely understand him now.

"Oi, are you sure your head's okay? You're talking even funnier than usual. Maybe you should -"

In a split second, Fai's knees give out, his face going from cheerful to shocked, mouth forming a perfect 'o' as he hits the ground with a thud. Kurogane drops his empty cup, catching him by the scruff of his neck.

"- sit down or something."

**~-~**

_Elodie's Extraordinarily Enlightening Explanations_

Cliffhangers, ahoy! Good lord, I've a lot of author's notating to do. (Noting? Notationizing?) Ah, well. It's for your benefit. (And it's free rambling space. Don't suppose I can rightly complain about _that_.) Future chapters should be longer, especially once we get back to school and meet the rest of the CLAMP-verse. And I mean in content, not notes. I don't think I could take much longer notes...

**Fai's Fantastic French Phrasebook**  
**Mais c'est un peu de chose. J'ai plus**: But that's a trifle. I have more!  
**Alors, c'est pas difficile**: So it's not difficult.

Fai's red-and-black song is called** One and Only** by Timberland. It really is a great song to be angry to.

About the colors: here, Fai is **synesthetic**, a word which here means 'a plot point to be explained by the character at a later date but is very well written about on Wikipedia if you really want to know'.

If you already know what this is or were unlazy enough to find out: Yes, I have it, and for matters of convenience, Fai's synesthesia is almost identical to mine. Hence, Kurogane's name is oddly colored. Kuro's nice and orangey but you tack on the greenish-brown-with-a-dash-of-red 'gane' and it all goes weird. No, I don't usually see music like Fai. At least, I'll make general associations with the colors - One and Only _is_ red and black - but pianos don't make me see rainbows.


	2. Implications

_OD: I don't own Tsubasa. I don't own Legal Drug. I don't a vest. I don't own a car. I don't own Liechtenstein. I don't own a lot of things._

**Synchronicity**  
Chapitré Deux: Implications

_this is one old game that I can play so well_

Fai's back aches and the floor he's lying on is terribly cold. No, on second thought, it's not the floor - it's the countertop, which he nearly rolls off when he tries to sit up. His trench coat is rolled up in a makeshift pillow and his fedora falls off his forehead as he steadies himself.

The counter? What is he doing napping on that? He thinks back, gripping the edges of the granite countertop so tightly his knuckles turn white. Damned hospitals. Walking around the block. Brick walls. Photographers and hot chocolate. _Oh._

"Oi, idiot. Lie back down before you pass out again," Kurogane growls, sitting up against the wall. He doesn't even look up, his face buried in his arms. "You started talking funny - funnier, that is - and just fell over. I'd bet my camera you've got a concussion and should be in a hospital bed right about now."

Fai makes a noncommittal sort of grunt, grabs his hat, and steadies himself again. "I'm feeling perfectly peachy now, I promise. I just got a little dizzy, that's all."

"Humph," Kurogane snorts. _Perfectly peachy_ - he had no idea people actually said things like that in normal conversations. "I said lie down. If you're not gonna do that, at least sit there. And that accent of yours is gone again. What is with you?"

"If you say so, Kuro-pon," Fai agrees cheerfully, dangling his legs over the side of the counter and swinging them gently. "How long was I out? I hope you've not been waiting too long for me."

Kurogane shifts, looking up and glaring. "Almost an hour. Scared the hell out of me, too. I even considered calling an ambulance once or twice, or least till I remembered the way you freaked out when I mentioned it the first time. And quit avoiding my questions - you haven't explained anything at all. I still don't know what you were doing out in this weather wearing nothing warm in the middle of a school day, or why you suddenly acquired a flawless French accent."

"Fine, fine, you win this time. I was at the hospital from three to five in the morning, and I got lost on the walk back and missed my bus. It's much too far to walk from here to Aceline and I'm still not sure of my way 'round here yet because I only moved here last week. So I decided to go for a walk to kill some time and clear my head," Fai says, his ever-present smile on at full blast.

"What about your accent? Why can I understand you now?"

"I probably wasn't thinking well enough and slipped back into old habits. This isn't my first language, you see. My family spoke French," he explains softly, closing his eyes for a moment. Reminiscing. "But I've become very good at it; it's easier when no one asks questions or mocks you because you speak a little differently, you know? Mais voilà tout - that's all."

"That's stupid. Sure, it's almost impossible to understand you when you're talking like that, but no one should tease you for it."

Fai looks almost taken aback, but he flashes another thin smile. "Thank you, Kuro-sama. I appreciate the kind thought, however misplaced it may be. Are you hungry? I've got some cookies and whatnot in store for the opening I could give you for your trip back."

"You're not getting rid of me that easy, kid," Kurogane says, standing up to stretch his legs. As much as he hates this idiot, he refuses to leave Fai on his own in his current state.

"Get rid of you? Now, Kuro-tan, you don't need to be unnecessarily harsh to -"

"You're not the only one who can read people, idiot. You've been making subtle and not so subtle remarks like that every other time you open your mouth. You obviously don't want me here, but I'm not leaving a kid with a concussion and a gash longer than my palm alone. I'll wait until your parents get back or whoever your legal guardian happens to be, 'cause I'm not gonna be held responsible if something happened to you," Kurogane insists.

"You see, this is wherein our problem lies. You won't ever leave if you have that intention," Fai says cautiously.

"I'm going to leave, idiot. I just don't want you passing out or worse because someone wasn't here with you."

"No, no, you misunderstand me. I am currently living here on my own. Alone. I've no real parents to speak of, and I'm old enough now to have my own place, so I thought bothering a distant relative was rather unnecessary."

"You're in high school - not even a senior yet. And there's no way you ever got into Aceline if you were held back long enough to be legal and still be a junior."

"I missed a few years of high school in my old city. Things were, ah, rather complicated and I was forced to drop out of school for a little while; I'm nineteen and one-sixth to be precise. Technically that's not true, but I'm not going to get into that because if I told you, I'd have to kill you." Fai punctuates his threat with a blasé smile and a wave of his hand, but something in that strange grin makes Kurogane almost believe him. "I thought I told you there's more to me than meets the eye. If you're waiting on someone else, you'll be here a very long time, with any luck."

"Well," Kurogane says, scratching his head, "I refuse to leave an idiot like you alone when you're all banged up like this, but I've got an assignment to do. I only need a couple more shots of the city, too."

Fai is smiling again, only his grin has gone from cheerful and placating to Cheshire Cat creepy. "I think I can help with that."

**~-~**

"Holy hell, Fluorite. I thought the first floor was crazy and then you go and show me this," Kurogane says, standing on the open area of the upper floor and waving his arm to indicate _this_. Which is about the third most spectacular of his city Kurogane had ever seen - and that said a lot, considering Kurogane had been photographing every corner of it since he'd first learned how to work a shutter button.

The second floor of the Cat's Eye is almost entirely taken up by an open-air patio with railings around the edges of the building. The back part where the stairs come up is covered, and there is a bathroom and some kind of office or bedroom to the side. Directly across the street is a small park with a small fountain and a plethora of blossoming sakura trees.

"Hyuu," comes the soft reply. (If you can call blowing air through your teeth in a pathetic attempt at whistling like that a reply.) "I'm rather used to it. My room's thataways, and so it's day-in-and-day-out for me. Haven't missed a sunset, though, since I moved in. It's terribly convenient to have that park directly facing the balcony, no?"

Kurogane grunts, too busy finding the perfect angle of the skyscraper next door.

For the moment, Fai is content to sit on the small iron table near the back wall and watch Kurogane snap shot after shot after shot. It's rather amusing to watch Kurogane in action because he's so absorbed in his work. He doesn't even check to see the results, despite having the advantage of a digital camera; he just keeps going. His name suits him, Fai thinks. The colors are growing on him; the bright orange 'Kuro' helps, even if 'gane' looks like a pile of dead leaves threw up on it. There's another color sitting in the back of his mind too, though it's too fuzzy to figure out exactly what hue it is. He'd already worked out his few friends' colors, the shade of their personality as opposed to their name, and he's beginning to think that he's got one for Kurogane, too.

When he finally slows down ten minutes later, Fai stands up and stretches his long, lithe legs.

"Kuro-bun, might I take a picture or two?"

Kurogane turns around, unsure but unwilling to turn down the blonde's request because he feels slightly indebted to him for showing him the balcony's view. "Break it and I'll snap you in half," he growls as he hands over the SLR. "If you hurt Jadel I will hurt you."

"You've given your camera a name? How adorable," Fai calls over his shoulder. He's standing on the table now, and Kurogane is a slip away from rushing over and throwing the idiot over his shoulder so that he can't get into any more trouble. "Don't worry about me. I'm just going to stand on the skylight, which is secure as any floor. I could do this in my sleep."

"Doing it asleep and doing it with a concussion are two totally different ballgames, kid. You could fall, and that'd get you something a lot worse than that cut."

"I did this half-drunk the first time. I can handle woozy, Kuro-pun. Thanks for caring, but it's really very unnecessary." Fai has clambered onto the roof of the covered area and begun snapping pictures, his feet a good yard and a half above Kurogane's head. "You can come up too, if you'd like."

"Liar. You've never climbed up here drunk. You're old enough to live on your own but you're not old enough to buy alcohol. I'm not naive enough to think you couldn't get the stuff, but I don't believe you anyways," Kurogane says as he effortlessly pulls himself over the ledge to stand on the large glass skylight.

"Maybe you are better at reading people than I thought," Fai says, checking the viewfinder. He points the camera down so that he can capture the decorated walls of the café below. "So how am I going to be able to convince you of my good health?"

Kurogane strides over, scowling again. (Come to think of it, he's been doing that a lot today.) Fai's attempts at photography go against every technique he'd learned in class and that he'd taught himself. It nearly makes him wince. "If you can stand for more than a minute without wobbling like that I might consider it, idiot. And you're holding the thing all wrong! You're not gonna have anything but the brick in focus like that," he says, gently taking away the camera and demonstrating 'the proper way'.

"I'm doing it on purpose, Kuro-rin. I don't actually want to focus on the background, because it has a nice effect. A little abstract but not wrong. Look through the ones I've already taken if you don't believe me." Fai moves a little closer to Kurogane, shoving the awkwardness to the very back of his thoughts along with the memories of... well, he shoved those thoughts away. He was still a little attached to the camera, after all; it's deal with the unknowing invasion of personal space or be choked by Kurogane's jerky movements. "Who did the embroidery on your lanyard-thing? The flowers are very intricate and I've only ever seen lettering that ornate in one person's work."

Kurogane flushes, but doesn't look up or let go of the camera. "Whatever, Fluorite. You're a floater so I should've known better. And I didn't want the stupid thing; there was this junior in my study skills last year who decided that I was gonna be 'her' freshman that year. And now she's a senior and calls me her BS - that's baby sophomore, and it's her words, not mine. Oh, and I'm apparently her mannequin, too. She gave me that and cheerfully stated that if I didn't use the gift she'd _slaved_ over she'd use me as her pincushion. You probably don't know her; her name is -"

"Tomoyo Daidoji," Fai finishes with a grin. "I actually have had the pleasure of meeting her. She's got a few baby freshmen this year, too, and her favorite is Sakura Kinomoto. I tutor Sakura-chan in French and Tomoyo hangs around a lot when I come over. She's adorable, don't you think? Her designs are amazing too - when Sakura-chan bothers to dress up, she always looks spectacular because Tomoyo makes all of her nice clothes. Sakura-chan is a bit absentminded and doesn't pay too much attention to what she throws on in the mornings," he tacks on as an afterthought. The first time he'd met his new protégée she'd been wearing a red plaid miniskirt, two different colored socks and mismatched sneakers, and an ancient paint shirt - backwards. (To her credit, the sneakers _were_ on purpose.)

"Adorable and _annoying_, yes. You've not been used as a mannequin for a dress, kid. That's not fun. Not. Fun," Kurogane punctuates, pulling on the camera and unknowingly dragging Fai along with him. He shivers a little at the memory from freshman year. Standing in the Design classroom with a dress pinned in a million different places. Ripping up the photographic evidence from the neighboring Photography class next door and threatening to beat up anyone who didn't immediately delete the shots from their cameras. Suffice to say, no pictures survived that particular incident.

"You're wrong there, too, Kuro-tan. She managed to get me into a long skirt and tunic-style shirt last week. She said that I was the perfect height for it and somehow guilted me into it. Sakura was beside herself with embarrassment, too, poor girl. En vérité, je les aime."

He's not quite sure what Fai has just said, but he's pretty sure it would probably piss him off if he knew. "Again with the French, Fluorite. At least tell me what it means if you're gonna be obnoxious enough to use it," Kurogane says, jerking his camera again which causes Fai to make a strangled cat-like noise.

"Ach, Kuro-pun. You don't have to be so rough, you know," he says, rubbing his throat.

Kurogane finally notices he's been dragging Fai with him and quickly removes the lanyard. Fai wobbles again, falling straight into already awkwardly close Kurogane. Immediately, Kurogane reacts, one arm shooting straight up in the air to protect his camera and the other snaking around Fai's waist to keep him from toppling over. This time, Fai lets himself rest against Kurogane's chest, fists full of the material of his thick jacket. His knees are weak, and he's got a sinking feeling that when he takes off his fedora the pristine white gauze is going to be completely soaked red.

"Kuro-tan, it's all your fault. If you'd only left me alone you'd not have to deal with this now, you know. I'd be safely incapacitated in the comfort of my own bed, instead of clutching a near-stranger on my skylight," he murmurs, resisting the urge to stay like this forever, eyes closed and somewhere close to delirious but safe.

"Damnit, Fluorite, quit talking nonsense. If it weren't for me, you'd be a lot worse off. Don't you know anyone who can take care of your head? The sun's starting to set and you're about to pass out for the second time today." Kurogane lowers his camera slowly, almost afraid to make any sudden movements as if that would set off another fainting spell. "Hey, kid, don't fall asleep on me. We still gotta get back down to the balcony and then down all those stairs, too." Not that either of them knows exactly how that is going to be accomplished, considering Fai's current state.

Fai moves slowly, too, straightening with a sigh and letting go of Kurogane. "I refuse to be dragged back to the hospital," he says, voice still low but hard-edged. "I could go to an old family friend, if I must. He runs a kind of maison de santé a little ways from here. He should be able to help, or at least give me some painkillers."

"It's that guy or the hospital, kid, so pick one. Meanwhile," he says, "we're gonna have to start getting down 'cause it's gonna take a lot longer with you like this." His left arm is still firmly attached to Fai's side, should he decide to wobble again and fall three stories to the sidewalk. He pulls Fai with him over to the edge of the upper roof and stares down. Fai stumbles along, mind going from painfully clarity to dark fuzziness.

Kurogane looks over the edge at the table, up at Fai, then down to the table and back up again. "I'll go first so that way if you trip or fall or something I can catch you, alright? Sit here and try not to pass out," he orders, jumping down onto the table and then to the balcony.

Fai blinks three times, willing away the cloudiness that keeps rolling in and slides gracefully off the edge of the roof straight to the balcony without a sound. He grins at Kurogane and latches onto his arm again, just in case. "Now to make it down the stairs and we're good to go," he says, ignoring the slight throbbing in both of his ankles from the strange way he landed.

(Here's to hoping the photographer is too surprised to notice.)

**~-~  
**

"Here we are," Fai says brightly - if somewhat unsteadily. They're standing on the front porch of an impressively large house in the strange area where the Highlands meet the business district. It's almost Victorian in style, but obviously refurbished and well modernized. "This is Kakei's maison de santé, his health house. His patients are rather different than one might usually expect in any kind of hospital, so be forewarned."

Kurogane grunts his reply, knocking again. He's still annoyed at the fact that the second set of bandages that he'd put on Fai just before they left the Cat's Eye is already beginning to show large red splotches and that no one had answered the door yet, despite Fai's relatively urgent condition. The short walk over had been tough enough, what with Fai stumbling every fifth step and clinging to Kurogane's jacket like a security blanket. (He doesn't even want to think what the three-piece suits on their way to a fancy meeting had thought of _that_.)

Suddenly, the door swings open and a short, oddly dressed girl is standing by in an impossibly poufy dress. Her hair is pulled up into long pigtails on either side of her head, large cerulean bows tied on each, a shade to match the interior décor.

"Ah, hello. I'm here to see the doctor - tell him that I'm an associate of Chimère and would like to see him immediately," Fai says, tipping his fedora - did he ever take it off unless it was absolutely necessary? Kurogane honestly would have suspected that he slept in the thing if it weren't for the fact that Fai treated it almost reverently and wouldn't be likely to chance squishing it.

The pigtail girl nods and walks off, leaving the door open in what can only be assumed to be an invitation to step inside. It's certainly decorated to match the exterior's architecture; the front room could be a set from a Jane Austen novel for the old English parlor feel it gives off. Several men in business suits sit on the uncomfortable-looking lounges, reading or messing around on their obviously expensive phones or PDAs. Not at all what Kurogane had expected when Fai told them they'd be going to see the family doctor at his 'house of health,' for sure.

Fai looks completely at ease in his jeans, t-shirt, and trenchcoat (Kurogane didn't manage to convince him to put on anything any warmer before they left), hands deep in his pockets and smiling as if he belongs among the suits. Kurogane, on the other hand, is completely aware of the difference between them and the men - patients, maybe? - and busies himself with checking the shots on his camera.

Shortly after, another similarly dressed girl skips down the long hallway to their left. She, too, is wearing an impossibly poufy dress but her hair is cut short and she has a small cap that reminds Kurogane of a plain nurse's hat. "The doctor will see you now," she sings, immediately turning back around to skip down the hallway again.

Kurogane glances warily at Fai, still smiling, who nods and begins to follow the girl. She stops at the third door down, a large wooden monstrosity with intricate carvings and an ornate golden handle. "The doctor is in here," she says, beaming and gesturing towards the door. "He says that any friend of Chi's is welcome any time."

"Salut, docteur. Ça va?" Fai announces as he walks in without bothering to knock.

The room is large, with tall bookshelves on the left and right walls. The back wall is taken up mostly by a window with a view of a garden, and a hefty mahogany desk faces them. At the desk sits a slender young man with glasses and short, light-brown hair, who looks up, surprised at Fai's sudden entrance. "Salut! Ça va. And you? I wasn't expecting to see you so soon after your departure," he says, smiling broadly and standing up. "It's good to see you again." The doctor wears a long white labcoat over slacks and and a light blue turtleneck to match his assistant's outfits.

"Ici, on parle en français, s'il te plait," Fai says curtly, although he still smiles. "Et je m'appelle Fai Fluorite maintenant."

"Alors, je t'appelle Fai aussi. Et comment vous appelez-vous?" he says to Kurogane.

Kurogane only scowls, slightly more than perturbed that Fai has decided to leave him out of this conversation. The idiot _owed_ him for putting him through this - and this was the kind of treatment he received? (He ignores the nagging voice in the back of his mind that says it was at least partly his fault the said idiot had been injured in the first place and the same idiot had tried to stop him from helping every step of the way.)

Fai makes a point of not looking at him, instead choosing to stare into a space somewhere over the doctor's right shoulder. "Ah, voilà mon nouveau ami, Kurogane Suwa, qui ne parle pas français. Il est étudiant á Aceline Mathys avec moi et il est photographe aussi. Je viens de L'œil du Chat, mon café. J'ai été en train de faire une promenade quand j'ai rencontré Kuro-tan. Mais le problème - je saigne trop. Et j'ai le vertige."

He takes off his fedora, revealing the bloody gauze. Kurogane folds his arms and stares off at the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room as Fai, still scowling.

"Ton tête est rouge!" the man scolds, coming over to examine the now soaked bandages. He peels back the layers, eyes wide. "C'est un _grand_ problème, certainement."

This, Kurogane can understand. "Finally, someone who agrees. I told you it wasn't 'just a cut', idiot."

Fai turns slightly towards Kurogane, but still avoids eye contact. "I should probably explain. This is Doctor Kakei. He's kind of a psychologist at the moment, but he's also got a great medical knowledge and should be able to stop the bleeding and give me something for the pain."

"You know, it'd help a bunch if you'd actually speak in a language I could understand, Fluorite. I don't like being left out of things," Kurogane growls.

"Just have a little patience, Kuro-rin. It shouldn't take long. Docteur, cette bosse - est-elle sérieuse?"

"Oui, elle est sérieuse, garçon bête. Elle n'est pas une bosse, indubitablement. Mais tu ne va pas á l'hôpital, je sais. Je peux donner vous un antiseptique, des aspirines, et des plus bandes de gaze mais je ne peux pas faire plus," Kakei says.

Suddenly, he swings an arm at Fai, who blocks immediately reacts and grabs his wrist. Kakei nods, conceding his loss and Fai lets go of his arm. "Reflexes are as sharp as ever. And considering that you're making all the introductions and explanations, I assume you're thinking relatively rationally, too. You've probably got a concussion, but it's almost certainly not a grade three, and therefore not terribly serious. And, if I may, comment tu te blesses?"

"Je me blesse quand Kuro-tan frappe mon épaule."

Strangely, this calms the doctor, who is now digging in his desk for what Kurogane assumes to be his supplies. "J'ai peur _il_ a te trouvé. Tu n'as pas une infection, alors c'est bien. Tu vas te sentir mieux quand tu ne saigne pas. Mais vas chez un ami, s'il te plait. Cet ami ici, peut-être? Il semble s'inquiéter de te - et il a les beaux yeux," Kakei says coyly, smirking and motioning for the two boys to sit down in the chairs facing his desk.

"Docteur! Je ne peux pas demander aller chez Kuro-tan, quand même il a les beaux yeux. Je _vais_ aller chez un ami," Fai says rapidly, blushing slightly as he sits.

Kurogane takes the chair slowly, unsure of his current situation. He wasn't sure the ineffably, obnoxiously cheerful idiot was capable of embarrassment. "Excuse me? I heard you screwing up my name again and I'd really like to know what's going on," he says, glaring alternately at Fai and the doctor.

Kakei winks at him, which only makes things less understandable. "So, Kurogane - or do you prefer Kuro-tan? Fai seems to call you that -"

"Fermez la bouche," Fai orders with a dangerous smile that clearly means business. "Ce n'est pas quoi tu penses. Don't listen to a single word he says."

"Excuse me?" Kurogane repeats, leaning forward. What the hell kind of conversation is this, anyways?

The other two simply ignore his outburst. "Nous venons, mon enfant gâté." Kakei grins. He holds up a large bottle of disinfectant, wielding it like a weapon. "Shush, Fai. We don't want this to hurt any more than it has to, do we?"

Fai widens his smile in a slightly wolfish manner but remains silent.

"So, Kuro-tan, as I was saying. It's terribly kind of you to accompany my dear friend here throughout this whole ordeal. From what I gather, you just met," Kakei comments offhandedly, dabbing a cotton ball in the alcohol.

"Ordeal is one word," Kurogane says, unfolding and refolding his arms. "But you're almost as bad as this guy, too. One, my name is Kurogane; two, I do not appreciate being talked about like I'm not right here when I am; and three, yes, we did and he's been a pain in the ass from the second I ran into him."

"Alright, it's Kurogane, then. I truly am sorry about leaving you out, but it seems Fai is somewhat embarrassed by me."

"For health reasons, of course," Fai chimes in, staying perfectly still as Kakei dabs his wound. He's not going to press his already thin luck if he can help it, but he's also not going to sit here and be insulted (even if it is in the most roundabout, subtle way possible). "I think that Kuro-wan would've throttled the both of us if he knew the kinds of things you were implying. I've never been one for what you've got in mind, _doctor_."

"To each his own, I suppose. It's odd you turned out the way you did, considering the acquaintances you keep. Kept, now - it's all water under the bridge now, I'd hope. For your sake," Kakei adds, screwing the lid back on the disinfectant bottle.

Fai relaxes, sliding down the back of the chair. "For yours _and_ mine."

The mood is oddly somber, and the three sit in strange silence for a few minutes while Kakei roots around in his desk again.

"It seems I don't have any spare bandages here in my office; I'll have to go upstairs and get some," Kakei says apologetically, thumping a drawer shut. He steps towards the door, but neither of the teenagers move. As he reaches for the door handle, he hesitates and turns around. "Before I go, I've got a favor to ask. Kurogane, could he stay with you for the night? Since you're both attending Aceline and he's probably still got a minor concussion. He's got nowhere else to go."

"I just told you I don't want to do that, Kakei. We wouldn't want to impose on Kuro-ran here, now would we? I'm sure he doesn't want a nuisance like me hanging around," Fai says, not moving from his slumped position in the chair or even bothering to open his eyes.

"You're a nuisance, all right, but I'm not gonna go to school tomorrow and hear some story about how the floater fell off of his roof and no one knows why," Kurogane informs him, shifting in his seat. "I'd have to ask my roomies but we're already hoarding a few unfortunates so I don't think that one more idiot will matter. You'd prolly get along real well with the girl, too. She's almost as bouncy as you are." Of course, Kurogane conveniently leaves out the part about it already being cramped because of the extra people and the fact that one of his roomies is not at all happy as the situation stands.

"That would be wonderful, Kurogane. He'll be dizzy, disoriented, and probably will have a splitting headache but Fai should be fine, otherwise. His reflexes are fine and he seems to be functioning relatively normally. Normal for him, at any rate. I hope we're not putting you through too much trouble," Kakei says, smiling again.

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Fai says, finally sitting up and looking around again. "Don't I have a choice in the matter?"

"No," Kurogane and Kakei both say together. Kurogane looks somewhat perturbed and Kakei laughs - giggles, almost.

"You can't be left on your own and Kurogane here seems perfectly fine with this situation, so you're the only one who has a problem with it. I could always ask Saiga to talk to you about it, if you insist on being difficult," he says, reaching for the door handle again.

"No, that's fine," Fai says, stiffening slightly. "I'll just go with Kuro-rinta. No need for drastic measures."

"Good," Kakei throws over one shoulder as he leaves, flashing a bright smile that Fai returns sardonically.

Kurogane turns to Fai, who has slumped back down in the chair and closed his eyes again. "Hey, kid. Who's this Saiga guy that freaks you out so much?"

"Saiga is, for lack of a better term, Kakei's bodyguard. And enforcer. He's smart, too, so it's not like he's all brawns and no brains. And I'm not 'freaked out' by Saiga," Fai says brightly, his cheerfulness in severe contrast to the conversation. "It's more like I learned my lesson the first time. Saiga 'escorted' me back home once. I tried to run away and the bruise on my arm didn't fade for nearly two entire weeks. It was my fault, of course; Saiga was only doing his job and I deserved it for trying to beat on him like I did, but it's not something you want to do twice."

"You certainly get roughed up a lot."

"You don't know the half of it," Fai agrees. "So, where's your boarding house? You aren't in the dorms, definitely - there's no way you'd get past the RAs with extra boarders."

"For your information, _Sherlock_, I'm rooming with some juniors in the Highlands - just a ways from here. You're lucky that we've got an extra mattress, kid."

"I suppose you could put it up to luck, though why it'd take such a turn for the better now fails me. I really do appreciate you taking me in and such, even if I am against it. It's terribly sweet of you, Kuro-rin."

Kurogane sits up abruptly. "Sweet? I'm not sweet," he hisses, resisting the urge to shiver and scoot away. Kurogane Suwa was many things, but _sweet_ was certainly not one of them.

Fai smiles, twirling his fedora lazily on one hand. "Of course you're not, Kuro-doux. I offer you un amende honorable."

"You're doing that to annoy me, aren't you? Friggin' sadist."

"Oui, mon cher. It's amusing," Fai grins, standing up to examine the bookshelves. "And it's not that hard to figure out what an 'amende honorable' is. I admit that getting 'sweet' out of 'doux' is rather difficult, but still. It's positively _adorable_ how you're so easily flustered. Besides, masochist would be a more fitting description."

That comment gets the desired reaction, and Kurogane sputters. "What the fu-"

"Sorry to keep you two waiting," Kakei says as he walks back in the room, throwing the door open. He holds up a box of bandages and a small plastic bag filled with pills. "Here we are, Fai. It looks like the alcohol's helped to stop the bleeding. Expect it to hurt like hell for up to a week, and it may bleed some more on-and-off for a while, but head wounds tend to be misleadingly painful and oddly unserious. A good night's sleep should do you good. That means no strenuous activity, okay?"

Fai smiles that dangerous smile again, walking over to take the supplies from Kakei. "Bien entendu, _docteur_. I don't believe we are going to have that issue, so don't worry."

"Take good care of him now, Kurogane," Kakei cautions, his all-too-perfect smile an exact mirror of Fai's own.

It makes Kurogane's hackles rise - something is decidedly off about the seemingly jovial atmosphere, and he doesn't like it. "You don't have to wake him up every few hours, or anything like that. As I said, a good night's rest should fix most of the symptoms."

Fai is currently trying to put the bandages on himself - and doing just as bad of a job as he did before. Kurogane stands up, sighing, and snatches the sticky gauze pad away. He brushes the light blonde hair off of Fai's forehead, gently and carefully placing the bandage on his cut, which is decidedly better looking than it had been two hours ago. "Idiot," he mutters, rolling his eyes. Fai's eyes go wide, once again stuck with Kurogane in his overly large 'personal bubble' and no choice in the matter - but he doesn't try to move away.

Kakei watches carefully, mildly but pleasantly surprised. "Well, I've got business to attend to - a particularly high-standing client's had a relapse and needs a psychological assessment rather urgently. So if you don't mind leaving?" he says, motioning towards the door with his hands and raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

Fai sucks in a big breath and starts off towards the door, shakily placing his fedora back on his head, taking care not to touch the gauze or anywhere near the spot on his forehead that Kurogane just touched.

Kurogane pauses for a moment, but then starts to follow. As he exits the ornate doorway, a hand on his shoulder stops him and Kakei leans in uncomfortably close. "Take good care of him, Kurogane. He needs this more than he could even imagine," he breathes. Suddenly the hand is gone and Kakei brushes past him, a jump in his step. The bubbly girl waits with Fai at the end of the hallway, and Kurogane simply stares.

"Come on, slowpoke!" Fai calls, grinning widely in that annoying manner that makes Kurogane so irrationally angry. "I've got the money for the fare, which Kakei here's so graciously gifted us."

Grumbling, he starts down the hallway again, and it dawns on him what was off about the doctor and Fai. They're both hiding, he realizes, behind their smiles and their perfect façades. The entire exchange in Kakei's office had been a series of flawless illusions and carefully constructed fronts. And the doctor's whispered request does nothing to ease his growing suspicion. "Whatever, Fluorite. Let's go," he huffs, grabbing Fai's wrist and opening the door with his free hand. "And thanks," he throws over a shoulder at Kakei, who stands smiling next to both of the short, poufy-skirted girls.

In the street, a cab is waiting - Kakei must have already called for one when he left to get the meds and gauze. Kurogane strides down the stairs, dragging a slightly startled but ever cheerful Fai with him. Despite his roughness, he makes sure to wait for Fai on the stairs, taking extra care that he doesn't fall. When they reach the sidewalk he swings open the yellow door and lets go of Fai's hand. He narrows his eyes at Fai and argues briefly before forcing him in first and then clambering in himself. The door shuts with an overly loud bang, and the cab drives off into the rush hour traffic.

Far behind them, Kakei allows a small, real smile and shuts the front door gently. "No, Kurogane Suwa. Thank you."

**~-~**

_My Madhouse of Magniloquent Macroscopic Malapropisms_

It is finally OVER. Dear Lord, this chapter was hell to write. The scene in Kakei's office was just sitting there for an entire week before I sat down and forced myself to end it. Anyways, I tried to keep things pretty interesting during the bit o' French that goes on between the doctor and Fai, but if I totally lost you there, these translations might help. It's not at all necessary to know what happens during that conversation, but it very very very vaguely alludes to Fai's past and other teensy little informations.

**Fai's Fabulous French Phrasebook  
****Mais voilà tout:** But that's all, as Fai so helpfully says.  
**En vérité, je les aime:** In truth, I like them. (Fai could pull off the transvestite thing. And because he's taking theatre arts and is therefore associated with Aceline's Performing Arts department, he could probably get away with it. He might actually manage to _blend in_ there if he did...)  
**Maison de santé:** An insane asylum, basically, though this man's place is more like a get-out-of-jail-free-card for really rich, legally troubled businessmen.  
**Salut, docteur. Ça va/Salut! Ça va**: Hi, doctor. How's it going? (Note that Fai uses informal speech here, so they know each other well.) Hi! I'm okay.  
**Ici, on parle en français…:** Fai asks that they speak French and says that he's called Fai now. Kakei agrees to call him Fai and asks for Kurogane's name. Fai intervenes on Kuro-tan's behalf and tells Kakei that Kurogane goes to Aceline, is a photographer, he doesn't speak French, and he met him while taking a walk. He then says he's bleeding too much and is dizzy.  
**Ton tête est rouge**: Your head is red! (I kill me.)  
**Docteur, cette bosse - est-elle sérieuse..:** Fai asks if his 'bump' is serious, and Kakei says of course it is, silly boy, and it's definitely not a bump. But because he knows Fai won't go to the hospital, he'll give him some painkillers, antiseptics, and put on some new bandages. He also asks how he hurt himself, and Fai says that Kurogane ran into him and he hit his head. Kakei was afraid that 'he' had found Fai. Luckily the cut's not infected and Fai should feel better once the bleeding stops. However, he should spend the night at a friend's house, to be safe - maybe this friend here? He comments that Kurogane seems to be worried about Fai and has 'the beautiful eyes,' an idiom meaning that he's pretty good-looking. Which causes the blushing fit.  
**Fermez la bouche. Ce n'est pas quoi tu penses:** Shut your mouth. It's not what you're thinking!  
**Nous venons, mon enfant gâté:** We'll see, my spoiled child.  
**Bien entendu:** Of course/well understood

**Legal Drug** fans may've noticed that I borrowed Kakei and Saiga. Here, Saiga is Kakei's friend-bodyguard-enforcer-type-thing. Not that he needs a bodyguard, but their line of work means you can't ever be too careful. Originally the doctor was going to be **Kyle Rondart**, but he took a very... _suggestive_ sort of undertone that Kakei fits much better. We'll be seeing Kyle later on, anyways. Speaking of cameos, Kakei's girls are supposed **Sumomo **and **Kotoko** from Outo's Dwarf Tower. It's not terribly obvious, but hopefully I got them relatively accurate in the sparse descriptions.

Good lord, these two author's notes make about 1k of my entire wordcount. I need to be more concise. (Or write more clearly...)


	3. Sleepover

_OD: CLAMP owns Tsubasa, Clamp School Detectives, and my soul._

**Synchronicity**  
Chapitré Trois: Sleepover

_come closer, come closer_

Fai drags his small suitcase behind him, the wheels making small thudding noises as it bumps each stair as he climbs. He sees Kurogane's shoulders twitch slightly with every bump, making him grin just a little wider and drop the suitcase a little more roughly. It's not like the bag has that much in it; just a few spare changes of clothes, his kit, and various personal items. It had already been packed when the pair had gone back to the Cat's Eye to pick up Fai's things for school the next morning - he had never fully unpacked and it felt a little safer knowing he had a bag waiting in case he needed to leave on short notice. Still, it's so _terribly_ amusing to use it as a jumping point to further annoy Kurogane.

"Kuro-mi," he calls, causing Kurogane to abruptly stop in mid-step just ahead of him. He's close to his breaking point, and Fai knows this all too well.

"What the hell is it now?" Kurogane growls, his anger threatening to get the best of him and cause him to snap the railing he's gripping in half. "You haven't shut up since we got in the cab, blabbermouth."

Fai ignores him, instead continuing with his original train of thought. "Is my suitcase _bothering_ you? You seem rather twitchy, so I _apologize_ if it is. It's just that my bag is _so_ heavy," he says, voice dripping with sugar so sweet it makes Kurogane want to puke. "I have a _hard time_ lifting it up all these stairs because I'm _tired_ of climbing. Are you _sure_ there's no elevator around?"

"It is not _that heavy_, there are _no_ elevators in this building because there are only _three floors_, and yes, you are annoying the hell out of me!" he hisses, doing his best not to shout at the idiot because the other boarders will complain again, and if the other boarders complain he'll have hell to pay from his moody roommate. "Just come on already. We're almost there." He starts up again, stomping harder than he'd intended.

"Kuro-bun is mean to me," Fai informs the air, hanging his head and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. "Il est trop furieux, je pense. Mais Kuro-tan est vraiment mignonne et sympa. Il se caches derrière sa mauvaise bouche."

"If you've got a problem with me, say it to me plain. Don't go talking about me when I'm standing right here!"

"I was just saying that you seem angry but that you're really a softie on the inside," Fai chirps, nodding and heaving his bag up the last stair. He waves his hand, suddenly changing the subject to avoid a painful death. "So, which door's yours?"

"Damnit, Fluorite! It's this one, number forty two, same as the last seven times you asked! Right there at the end of the hall," Kurogane says, stomping off down the hall. "I swear, I don't know why I didn't just leave you at that stupid café after all. It woulda been a lot less trouble, for sure." he grumbles, unlocking the grey apartment door. "Yo, I brought home another one!"

Fai's smile wavers almost imperceptibly. Kurogane makes bringing home a complete stranger to stay the night sound completely routine, as if it was something he's gone and made a habit out of.

"Subaru, what did I tell you about talking to weirdoes?" A short, dark-haired boy storms out of what Fai assumes to be the bathroom, scowl on his face and towel in his hands. He stops abruptly when he spots Kurogane, scowling fiercely at Fai. "Damn, he's gone and got you, too. We're already bursting at the seams here, Suwa."

Kurogane sets his camera down on the coffee table with a soft thud, removing his jacket and scowling back at the shorter boy. "I know that, but I'm kinda obligated to take care of this one. Cause he's an even bigger dipshit than you, he went and busted his head open real good and now he's got a concussion and I can't just leave the idiot alone. There'd be hell to pay if the Flowright floater happened to fall off his roof tomorrow and I was the reason for it, so we're stuck with him." He turns to face Fai, snatching away his suitcase and setting it in a row next to a few other luggage bags in front of the small couch. "This moody guy here is -"

"Kamui Shiro," Fai finishes, bowing slightly and tipping his fedora. "Pleasure to meet you. You're not half so scary as the com kids say, though. It's nothing bad, so don't go and yell at them tomorrow. They just have a healthy, fearful dose of respect for you. Or respectful fear. Anywho, I'm Fai D. Fluorite, resident floater of Aceline Mathys School for the Fine Arts."

"I never told you anything about who I was rooming with! And you're going and giving your name no problem for Shiro but you wanna play twenty questions with me when we meet - what kind of logic is that?" Kurogane turns back to Kamui, holding his hands palm-up in a sort of apologetic gesture. "You know this kid?"

"No," Kamui says, narrowing his eyes even further and glancing from his roommate to the new moocher. "I've heard of him, of course - everyone has. But I don't _know_ him."

"Pardon, but I'm right here." Fai smiles, stepping further into the tiny living room area. He keeps his fedora and trenchcoat on, despite the warmth of the apartment complex. "I happen to be good friends with one of your freshman journalists - the Li kid. Does Yearbook under you, if I recall correctly? A little over-eager but a good kid nonetheless."

Astounding, really, how Fai manages to keep track of every single person in the entire school. All without any physical trace of an aid. "You're worse than that freaky Imonoyama brat," Kurogane hisses. "He remembers everything. _Everything_. It's just not normal."

"Come on, Kuro-tan, Nokoru's not bad. He's terribly sweet - the best manners I've ever seen on a freshman, certainly. And his writing is brilliant, not to mention the fact that he's second only to Kamui here in terms of all-time class standings."

Kurogane flinches at the use of a nickname but only shoots a glare at Fai. "You haven't been living with him for the past three days."

Kamui's look goes from a suspicious glare to one of surprise. "You're still alive? You must be something if Suwa's not strangled you for those nicknames yet."

"I have an overdeveloped sense of self-perseveration, surprisingly enough. Not to mention excellent reflexes," Fai laughs, dodging an almost playful swing of Kurogane's arm. "I am truly sorry to impose upon you like this, Shiro-kun. The doctor said that it wasn't safe to leave me all alone at the café, so Kuro-tan kindly volunteered to let me stay over here, despite already having extra people. I don't take up all that much space, really."

Kurogane looks to Kamui, shrugging in a 'what can you do?' manner. "So, can we keep him? One night only."

Fai feigns annoyance at being treated like a stray kitten, but almost immediately drops the pout when he realizes that no one is paying him any attention.

"Fine, fine. I don't even care anymore. Go talk to Subaru and figure out where to put him. If we run out of room, you're demoted to the floor, Suwa, and your head case gets the couch." Kamui turns around, stomping angrily back towards the bathroom and slamming the door shut with a bang. "And my name is Kamui!"

~-~

Kamui sits on the floor of the bathroom, slumped next to the bathtub with his head buried in the wet towel he'd been drying his hair with moments ago. All the rage is gone, leaving an empty chasm where he thinks his heart might once have been. It's been so long since he's used it, he's not even sure he remembers having one.

(Lie. He remembers exactly; it's been three years. Two weeks shy of three years and it still won't fade.)

This is bad for him, this Fai kid, and he knows it's only going to bring everything crashing down around his ears. Again. This is trouble. The floater, despite being the first floater in more than a decade, shines in his theatre classes. Subaru even noticed, and it takes a lot to make Subaru notice anything when he's working tech. Of course, he's in Theatre Arts I. Not Theatre Arts III. There's a chance he's freaking out over nothing.

(Lie. He's watched this game be played out enough times to know how it ends.)

The floater is bad news because he's detached. He defies all the neat little labels Aceline so conveniently provides and breaks down every barrier between them. He goes where he wants, and anyone is fair game. He's brilliant, almost as much as Kamui himself. He's drop-dead gorgeous, and every girl (and non-com guy) fawns over him. Most of all, he's frigging talented and vying for the lead in the spring musical. A Theatre I student, for god's sake! He's a desirable, the Thing of the season. A collector's item. So the collectors will bid until the limit is reached, winning trophy friends for trophy children. Once, twice, sold to the lucky number.

(Lie. He knows who will win this auction.)

It would be one thing if Suwa hadn't gone and gotten attached to the stupid guy already. Not that he'd ever admit it, but Kamui knows that whatever is keeping the floater from going six feet under is going to keep them together, whether either of them likes it or not. He's gone so long keeping good, keeping focused, keeping away. Now some freaky floater is going to come into his life and screw everything up? He doesn't think so. Not even Subaru knows what he's done - the things he's put up with - and he intends to keep it that way. Even if he has no idea how. He's over freshman year, and he refuses to let one chance meeting undo it all.

(Lie, lie, lie. All he does nowadays.)

He won't let Monou get away with it again.

~-~

Fai takes a moment to examine the apartment. The living room is small, but there kitchenette to the left has an open bar area separating the two, helping to create the illusion of a larger space than it actually is. There's a little round coffee table to his immediate left, which seems to be a place for the residents to drop their stuff when they walk in, as keys and wallets litter its surface. In the back left corner is a hallway, the first door being (assumedly) the bathroom which Kamui now angrily inhabits and (also assumedly) the bedrooms. "Not too shabby, Kuro-tan. Smallish, but homey."

"You live in a freaking massive café, Fluorite, so I don't think you can say anything about this being small. It's actually one of the larger flats in the building," Kurogane snorts. He leans in the kitchen for a moment to check if anyone is there, but it's empty so he stomps down the hallway, motioning for Fai to follow. "Subaru's around here somewhere. It's been decided that since, till today at least, this mess's been his fault, he's in charge of figuring out how we're all gonna fit."

He stops at the second door on the right, pounding on the door with his fist. "Subaru! You in there?"

No response.

"He's in there," Kurogane informs Fai as he tries the doorknob. The door flies open with a magnificent bang to rival Kamui's earlier door-slamming. "Take off the headphones and talk."

The walls are a pale green and the room is sparsely furnished. The two twin beds that are pushed up against opposite walls are ancient wooden things, taking up most of side walls. On the back wall between them is a small dresser and to the right of the door is what seems to be a closet. On the left bed sits another small teenager who looks strikingly similar to Kamui, aside from their haircuts. He's staring determinedly at the computer in his lap, a large, bulky pair of headphones covering his ears.

Kurogane strides over and takes the headphones, causing the boy jump and grab at the air around his ears where the headphones used to be. "Subaru, we've got another one staying the night. Kamui told me to ask you where we're gonna put him."

The boy - Subaru - looks up at Kurogane, eyes wide. "I'm not sure, Kurogane. I guess he'll have to sleep in the living room with you, because Nokoru, Kamui and I are all bunking in here, and your bedroom's taken by Yuzuriha, so we'll just have to break out the sleeping bags or something. I really don't understand why my brother thinks I can solve these things better than him," he says, biting his lip and shutting the laptop. When he spots Fai standing patiently in the doorway, he flushes slightly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there. I'm Subaru Shiro, Kamui's twin. I assume you've met my brother?"

Fai nods and tips his fedora - his typical manner of greeting, apparently. "Yes, Kamui-kun is quite an interesting person. I recognize you - you've got fifth block Production, right? I've got Theatre fifth. That Sakurazuka's taken quite a liking to you, hasn't he?"

Subaru has gone from slightly flushed to furiously blushing. "Seishiro - he... I mean - it's just that I-"

"It's alright, Subaru-kun. I don't mean to embarrass you; it's just that our director seems to trust you quite a lot when it comes to handling the backstage side of things. You do an exceptional job keeping it all together, too. The younger ones certainly seem to look up to you," Fai says gently, smiling softly and hiding a laugh. He knows that the chair of the Performing Arts department and the uncontested head technician have a strange kind of friendship. One that mostly consists of the director making his techie blush as often as humanly possible. (Not that it's _difficult_ to get the quiet, naïve kid to turn a brilliant shade of red.) "I'm Fai D. Fluorite, Aceline's very own floater. Kuro-rin here so kindly volunteered to let me spend the night as I've got a concussion and it's rather dangerous for me to be on my own at the moment."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Fai," Subaru says as he gets up from the bed. "Shall we go and see if there's an extra sleeping bag? Kamui's been using one, so I'm not sure if we've got another but I'll check. Oh! And you'll have to meet Nokoru and Yuzuriha, too, if you haven't already."

Kurogane grunts and Fai steps out of the doorway to let Subaru through. "Nokoru-sama is a friend of mine, but I've not had the honor of meeting Miss Nekoi in person," he says, trailing his hosts down the hallway.

"There you go again with that freaky memory thing, kid," Kurogane mumbles halfheartedly.

Fai shoots him a grin while Subaru knocks quietly on the door across the hall. "Yuzuriha, Nokoru - we've got more company."

The door opens, and a smiling young girl stands in the doorway, a large dog at her side. "Hey Subaru. Me and Nokoru were just playing a game of War. Wanna join?" she asks, proffering the large stack of cards in her hand.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'd like you to meet Fai Fluorite. He's staying over tonight. Fai, this is Yuzuriha Nekoi."

Fai touches his fedora, moving it slightly in acknowledgement. "Delighted. And who's this?" he asks, indicating the dog at her side.

"This is Inuki," she says, scratching between her dog's ears. "I've had him since he was a little puppy. You wouldn't believe it, but he was really tiny once upon a time. He looks out for me and I look out for him, so it works well."

"I'm sure. You'd best keep an eye on that Imonoyama boy, then. He might be peeking at cards as we speak," he says seriously, addressing Inuki.

Yuzuriha holds up her half of the deck, grinning triumphantly. "I took mine with me."

"Besides, I never cheat," comes an indignant voice as Yuzuriha moves to the side to let a blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy through. "Especially not against a lady as wonderful as this. I'm insulted that you think so lowly of me, Fai."

"I kid, I kid. I do hold you in the highest regards, Nokoru," Fai says with a genuine laugh.

Nokoru chuckles, too, and Kurogane suddenly has the impression that there is something running deeper between this pair, and that does not sit well on his stomach. "So you always say. So, how did you ever end up here? Last I heard, you were hanging with freshman from all magnets."

"I could ask you the same thing. But to answer your question, it's all very coincidental. I've managed to acquire a bit of a concussion and Kuro-min has so kindly offered to let me stay the night, as the doctor's gone and ordered that I'm not to be left alone in this state. What about you? I wouldn't think the youngest Imonoyama would ever have roommates."

"Very much so. You know that I decided to go to the dorms after I moved? There was a fire in my dorm, ruining my room and forcing me to stay elsewhere; I'm collaborating with Subaru on the stage designs for the upcoming musical, so it seemed logical to take up Subaru's kind offer to stay so we could work on it while I'm sort of out of a home." Nokoru smiles brightly, not wanting to dwell on the relative misfortune or have to answer too many questions. "Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come and play war with us? It's a great time."

It's Kurogane who speaks up this time, straightening from his position leaned back on the wall. "We've gotta figure out where to put this moron, still, and we don't even know if we've got spare sleeping bags for whoever gets kicked off of one of the beds."

Nokoru's grin widens. "I have more than plenty of blankets - oddly, it's one of the few things that survived the fire. I have an idea on the sleeping arrangements, though. Fai, can you still spin a tale?"

~-~

"I was supposed to be closing up shop; we'd gotten all the information we needed on the target so the mission was almost over. Before I could close the tent, the target walks in and asks to have his fortune told. He didn't recognize me, of course - the disguise was flawless and not many people actually knew what we looked like, anyways. I couldn't refuse, because I didn't even know if I had backup waiting, and if I did I might end up blowing my cover. This guy was really dangerous. Supposedly, he was a double-agent working for my employer's rivals and he was known for being rather, ah, _trigger-happy_."

"The hell are you talking about, Fluorite? Since when did you work for the FBI?" Kurogane growls, stepping into the small circle of sleeping bags and blankets that has grown up in his living room.

Nokoru hadn't lied; he did have an overabundance of blankets and sleeping bags, which he and Yuzuriha are certainly taking advantage of. They sit in the middle of the room on the floor, blankets piled up around them to help ward off the evening cold that the pitiful heating system does not. The freshmen are absorbed in Fai's tale, Yuzuriha seemingly hanging on his every word and Nokoru laughing in an amused kind of disbelief. Subaru is back on the laptop in his room, probably working on set designs or maybe even something for the infamous Yuuko - no one ever calls her Ms. Ichihara, not even her students - and her virtual world building software. Kamui is probably sulking with Subaru or has holed himself up in the bathroom - the only private, un-occupied, not-off-limits room left - again.

Fai sits on the balls of his feet, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, giving the impression of a cat perched on top of its scratching post. He smirks lightly at Kurogane, something indubitably serious dancing behind the amused tone.

"I would never sink so low as to join the Bureau, Kuro-rinta. As someone once said, they're only a bunch of gangsters with badges. I was working for an independent organization of sorts in this case." Fai laughs, a hardness coming into his jovial expression that looks rather out of place. "Anyways, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. He was a real oddity, this guy. His hands were nearly identical in readings, which was ironic when you figure that this guy was supposed to be a double-crossing spy in the organization who employed me. You see, in palm-reading, your left hand reveals your personal, private self while your right hand tells what you show to the outside world, the masks you wear. So his inner and outer personalities were nearly identical."

Kurogane scoffs, flopping down on the couch despite Kamui's earlier argument. "You can't even read palms, I bet. You just use your weird-ass detective thing to fake it."

"Would you like me to do a demonstration after I finish this story?" Fai asks sweetly, turning his face up to Kurogane and batting his lashes. "I at least have let them know if the bad guy got away or not."

He scowls in response and Fai takes that as an agreement. "Anyhow, I'm sitting there in costume reading the fortune for the maybe the sixth most dangerous guy on the south side and there's not a thing I can do but sit there and hope to every god I can think of that my backup is still hanging around. As I'm divining, the target's giving me this weird look like he's seen me before, which is odd in and of itself considering we'd never met before, in or out of costume. I manage to get through the whole fortune without screwing up, and just when he's about to leave, he reaches into his coat pocket for the gun I know he's got. I'm frozen in place - I didn't have anything on _me_, as no sweet old fortune-teller totes weaponry."

Fai pauses for dramatic effect, enjoying the astonished look on Yuzuriha's face. "What happened? Did he shoot?"

"I was a split-second away from diving behind the table for cover when a series of shots rang out from the outside of the tent. The guy looked from me to the exit for a moment - judging my reaction, I suppose. Apparently, I looked sufficiently confused because he fell for the trick and hurried out of the tent." The rest of the story catches in Fai's throat, and he rubs his eyes in an attempt at an impression of a sleepy child to cover. "I'm getting tired," he announces.

"But the story - what happened to the man? What about you? What happened outside your tent?" Yuzuriha gasps, hugging Inuki closer, eyes wide with anxiety.

"That's the worst ending I've ever heard," Kurogane growls, cutting off her rant.

Fai turns to him again, smirking. "I wasn't aware that you'd even been listening. And that's not the end; I just forgot what happened next."

"If it happened to you, you wouldn't have forgotten, liar."

"I've been caught! Kuro-rin sees right through me," Fai laughs, standing up and stretching. "I'm sorry that I've gone and forgotten what happened after. It was a rather good story, despite the dresses. I told that one a lot, back home." With a decisive plop, he drops down on Kurogane's outstretched legs, leaning back against the couch cushions and closing his eyes, completely disregarding the fact that Kurogane was there first.

"I am not a seat cushion," Kurogane huffs, trying to shift his legs so that his knees aren't buckling backwards from Fai's (admittedly light) weight.

Fai beams to the room at large, keeping his eyes closed and settling down further. "Of course you're not. You're much too lumpy to be a cushion. Who would want to sit on something so uncomfortable?"

Kurogane glares at the nearby freshmen, who are trying to contain their hysterical laughter. "Then please explain to me why you feel the need to sit on my knees!"

"I almost forgot - how's about that palm reading now, kids?"

Yuzuriha looks up at Fai, who shifts to keep himself from falling off of Kurogane's legs and subsequently the couch, and grins wider than even him. "I'd love that, Fai. Could you read my palms?"

Pointedly ignoring Kurogane's angry protests, Fai motions Yuzuriha closer to the couch, so that he can lean over its edge and not get off. "Left hand, if it's no trouble."

Yuzuriha and Fai both re-settle as Fai stares at her hand intently, tracing lines gently and generally making a small show of things. "You have nice fingers," he comments distractedly, placing their palms together in comparison. "Long, but not bony, although your palm is relatively shorter. You're very curious, and love to exchange ideas with others. Despite your eagerness, you don't care for arguments and prefer to play peacemaker. It's an easy job for you too - your flexible-but-not-floppy fingers indicate you can hold your ground but you can see other's viewpoints, too."

He flips her hand again, examining her fingertips, palm-side up. "Mostly rounded fingertips - you seem to enjoy people, and don't like living alone. As far as nails go, you've got mostly oval-ish nails, although there are some almond-shapes too. You're a passionate dreamer, but you don't let your temper get away from you, if you do tend to have outbursts of emotion. Whorls, whorls, whorls - you've got interesting fingerprints. The thumb's a loop, though; this means you're a very amicable person, and very self-expressive - an individualist, one might say."

"Your wrist lines indicate you aren't obsessively vain, but you do like have the approval and support of those around you," he says, running his thumb over the veins on her wrist. "They're called rascalettes. Speaking of lines, yours are looking good. Not too smooth, but not so broken up to make you a paranoid or easily broken person. Your life line is unbroken, and indicates that you are highly energetic, and don't do well with criticisms but you enjoy praise. A chained head line represents difficulty concentrating and openness to new ideas."

Fai stops, letting go of her hand. "You've got such pretty hands. I could go on, but I'll stop myself before I can't. It's funny how hands change over time, lines disappearing and reappearing. Did you know hands often betray emotions? Blood rushes to them when you're angry, and they're often very pale when one is worried or sad."

"Thank you, Fai. You're dead on, too! Do you practice a lot?"

"Well, for about a month one time I did nothing but kidnap people's hands to read for them. All my non-relatives were easy targets. Kuro-min, you remember Kakei and Saiga - well, you don't know Saiga but anyways. Their kids are really nice and Kudo-kun always loved seeing how his'd changed."

Kurogane tries to sit up and fails. "Aren't they both _guys_?"

"Well, yes. Rikuo and Kazahaya aren't actually their biological children, silly. Adopted sons, maybe. Or the hired help, depending on how you look at it."

Nokoru, who had been previously petting Inuki, looks up. "You've got one crazy family, Fluorite."

Fai grins back. "You don't know the half of it, Imonoyama."

~-~

The stories start up again after Yuzuriha asks about the 'non-relatives' and they continue for a few hours, but his audience begins to drift off one by one, so the tales gradually get softer and less exciting until silence rules the living room. Yuzuriha and Nokoru are both still in their makeshift beds, and Kurogane has dozed off while sitting up on the opposite end of the couch.

Fai doesn't sleep.

He probably should, what with having a concussion and all, but he's never been one to fall asleep easily. Besides, there was always that chance that he'd have the terrors tonight, which could damage his entire image in one fell swoop. There are never signs before, and he never remembers in the mornings; the only clues now are unusual tiredness and the covers and pillows on the floor in a heap beside the bed. There's no point in risking shouting something in his night terrors and screwing everything over just because he's a little tired.

Besides, he has better things to do. Bigger fish to fry.

He sits up gently, careful not to move the couch cushions too much and disturb the sleeping Kurogane at the other end of the couch. He through the mess of sleeping bags, laughing silently at Yuzuriha, who has one arm thrown over Inuki, and Nokoru, who is cocooned in his covers. He slips past the sleepers, taking extra care as he puts one foot right in front of the dog's nose. Inuki stirs, but he makes it safely to the hall.

The bathroom light is off, but a soft fluorescent glow spills out from the crack beneath the door. Perfect. He takes a deep breath, letting everything else slip away. Focus is important here. He opens the door slowly enough to avoid it creaking, but quickly enough not to make the one inside suspicious.

Kamui is sitting on the floor with the laptop, but he stands up with a start when Fai enters. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Fluorite?"

"Shut it, _Shiro-kun_. I'm not in the mood," Fai says in a tone that decidedly does not match the words coming out of his mouth. He strides forward, his ever-present grin screaming trouble. He grabs Kamui by the front of his shirt, pulling the shorter boy close. His eyes are wide and he fumbles for the laptop that has fallen on the mat, though Fai's grip is tight and he can't move far enough to reach it. "I know all about you. You are to the Communications department what Daidoji is to the Visual Arts - what Monou is to YPAS."

Kamui flinches at the comparison. "Get the hell off of me. I'm nothing like that bastard. Besides, he seems to have you wrapped around his little finger, doesn't he?"

He laughs mirthlessly, kicking the laptop out of their way. "Quiet, Shiro-kun, or else that big ole scary roommate of yours will wake up. And Monou-san is not my type. You'd do well with him, I think, if you'd ever let him within a hundred feet of you."

"What do you want, Fluorite?"

Fai pulls Kamui up to his eye level, lifting him so that his toes are dangling just above the linoleum tile. "Tell me everything you know about the Monou family."

**~-~**

_She Schemes Scads of Strange Shippish Situations_

One month and I'd have liked to've thought this chapter would be better for all this time. Hmph. Anywho, I was looking through this the other day and realized that Kamui really likes hanging out in the bathroom. Not intentional, but somewhat odd. Logical, considering that Kurogane's room is (was?) occupied by Yuzuriha; Nokoru, Subaru, and Kamui all shared the twins' room; and Kurogane got the couch. (He lost at Tic-Tac-Toe.) All the acronyms and abbreviations relating to Aceline should be explained next chapter, so if you're a bit lost in all of that hang on a little longer.

**Nokoru's** from Clamp School Detectives. **Yuzuriha** and **Inuki** are from X - also, she was an oni hunter in Outo. **Kazahaya** and **Rikuo** are part of the Legal Drug family. Um, **Monou **is pretty obvious if you know other Clamp works, but it'll be revealed next chapter. (I hope?) Oh, and **Yuuko's** a Department Head and a famous computer software designer. (Soel, the first version of MOKONA worldbuilding programs, is a worldwide hit. Larg (v2) is scheduled to come out within the next six to nine months.)

**Fai's Finite French Phrasebook  
****Il est trop furieux..:** He's too angry, I think. But Kuro-tan is truly cute and nice. He hides behind his bad mouth. (Fai uses the feminine form of 'cute' with it, too. _Sympa_ is the same for both genders.)

And, in conclusion: I'm **looking for a beta**. Mainly to help work out this stoopid plot and keep the characters, well, in character. I'd be especially grateful to anyone who'll help with the non-TRC charries. (Mostly CSD, X, and Legal Drug.) ;3


	4. Routine

_OD: I don't do this for money. My poor brain would implode if I didn't start these. (Reviews feed the penniless writer.)  
_WARNING!_ Profanity, Sei-chan, and Thursday._

**Synchronicity**  
Chapitré Quatre: Routine

_I couldn't give a flying fuck what's normal - haven't had a normal day in years_

_Mhm_.

Fai hums groggily, frowning slightly at the ticklish sensation. He's back on the couch, and he hears the faint sounds of something sizzling in a frying pan coming from the kitchen. When had he fallen asleep? After dealing with Kamui, he'd gone back to the living room to think, but he doesn't remember feeling that drowsy.

It seems he's been waking up in strange places with no memory of falling asleep in the first place too often lately.

Something bright orange tugs at the back of his mind, but he's still sleep-dazed and he hums again instead, liking the way the Ms vibrate against his lips. Orange. Somewhere in the background, he hears Kurogane yelling and smiles. That's orange too, he thinks, tapping his lips with a long, slender finger. Kuro-min even more so.

Something is off about the shade, and Fai can't quite place it. There is definitely something he's supposed to remember, something orange, and something important. Slowly he opens his eyes, staring at the spackled ceiling for a moment before forcing himself up. He grabs his bag and shuffles towards the hallway to the bathroom. He pauses at the door, vaguely wondering whether Kamui is still writing in there. He'd grabbed his laptop after their pseudo-conversation last night when Fai walked out, so it is completely possible.

(Orange. He's surrounded by orange and none of it is the right color. It's so close, and yet...)

Throwing caution to the wind, he barges into the empty room and begins to change. He looks at his haggard reflection - how did he manage to look better going three days without sleep than he did with a decent night's one? - and screws his eyes shut. It's not any better when he opens them again. "Orange," he says to the boy in the mirror as he pulls on his jeans, wondering why the color won't leave him alone.

Sighing, he stomps back out into the kitchen in search of the food he knows is waiting. Subaru greets him warmly, and Fai thinks he manages a smile as he sits but it's too early to be entirely certain. There might also be a mumbled, half-greeting in there too, but it doesn't really matter. Yuzuriha and Nokoru join him, and he looks up to try and smile at them, too.

And sees a basket of oranges in the center of the table.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before his head hits the table in a defeated thump. He really, really hates mornings. If he were back in Caen, he'd be able to tell someone about this stupid nagging color and he'd have it figured out in no time. Of course, he is most certainly _not_ in Caen and with any luck he won't ever be in Caen again, so suffer he must.

_Mhm._

He starts humming the alphabet under his breath. It's an M word, he's sure; nothing else gives of that kind of vibrant association. Mother, marble, mill, middle...

Middle. His head snaps up, and he actually looks at Subaru for the first time this morning. "Subaru," he says, interrupting whatever conversation is going on around him. "Do you have an older sibling? A sister, mayhaps?"

Subaru spins around, the hot frying pan falling to the floor at his feet. "P-pardon?" he gasps, now-empty hands shaking almost violently.

"You seem like the poster middle child, so I was wondering if you had an elder sibling. I'm assuming that you're the elder twin." Fai's sleep-induced question is perfectly innocent, but Subaru is shaken down to his core.

Kamui chooses this moment to storm into the kitchen, blowing past a stunned Yuzuriha and Nokoru to retrieve the dropped pan. "Observant, _Flow_right. It's just me and Subaru now. There's really not any other family," he says breezily, dancing around the question with practiced ease. "I am the younger twin, though. Subaru, would you _mind_ helping? You've gone and made a mess."

So Subaru moves again, slowly, and the others watch in a sort of dazed amazement as the twins try to rescue the rest of their breakfast.

Fai feels the need to apologize, to break the stifling silence. "I'm sorry if I was a little tactless. But the color of it wouldn't leave me alone."

"The color?" asks Yuzuriha, ever curious, propping her elbows up on the table and her chin in her hands.

"Ah, I'm a synesthete. Synesthesia means 'mixing of the senses.' I associate colors with pretty much everything - the alphabet, all the numbers, months. There are other kinds too; some people see colors when they hear music, or feel something when they taste foods. I even used to know someone whose numbers had personalities and genders. It sounds strange, no?" Fai grins. "I woke up this morning and I knew there was something really orange on my mind. M is orange, so middle is too."

"That makes sense," Kamui says, giving the fallen bacon a once-over. "I knew someone like that once. She saw music."

"Oh? I knew one of those too, only he had numbers and letters with personality plus sound-color type synesthesia. Thinking of all that gave me a headache, personally. Terrible mathematician but a gifted musician, he was."

He stops, pausing as he straightens his back, a dreamy sort of expression on his face. Subaru stares. "Classical music was, apparently, a very pretty pastel color so I know a lot of old dead composers thanks to her."

By now, everyone is staring again. Kamui is being civil. To a hanger-on. To the Flowright Floater. In the morning. And he's _almost_ _smiling._ He is obviously the harbinger of some terrible apocalypse, so they hold their breaths and wait for the end to come.

"So what color am I?" asks Nokoru, grinning lopsidedly in a valiant attempt to continue a non-awkward conversation.

"Purple," Fai says immediately. "Against all reason, a paleish sort of purple. It doesn't match the letters in your name, but that's how it is. Yuzuriha is a very orange-yellow name, and Inuki is white. Fai is deep burgundy-purple. Subaru is grey and orange, and Kamui is a strange orangeish color. And Kuro-tan looks like fall threw up on it," he tacks on cheerfully, watching Kurogane's enraged expression as he storms into the kitchen too, completing the little group.

Subaru nearly drops the food for a second time when the eruption begins.

~-~

Fai has thought about Aceline quite a lot in the time he's been there. Being the terribly introspective, people-watching person he is, he pretty much had everything figured out by the second day of floating between it all. Feeling an intense sense of boredom, he compiled a (mental – he really didn't want to get lynched) Floater's Guide to Ames, which happens to go something like this:

_Okay. Aceline Mathys School for the Fine Arts, _it says,_ is big. It's really, really, mind-bogglingly, astoundingly massive. You may think your regular big-city high school is big but it's not. The whole system is crazy intricate, weaving throughout the different cliques and separating the students from one another, creating feuds that nearly mirror the ones between the cities. It's so big that few people have ever figured it out, as there hasn't been an objective floater (floater: someone attending Ace but not in any magnets; Hey, check out that Flowright Floater kid from my Theatre class! He's in her Creative Writing class too!) in over a decade…_

…and The Guide goes along like this for a while, detailing the stupid cliques and how they are going to end up blowing the school up at this rate. The style eventually settles down and starts to tell the more important semi-factual things.

_Ace isn't actually that big in terms of people, but it's big. Complex. Corrupt. Take the government of a small but industrialized country, add hormonal teenagers as the citizens, opium-smoking leaders, nonexistent presidents, and stir. Then double it._

_Think you got it? No. Because that's just peanuts to how massive Aceline is._

_Double it again, add in one mob, next to no police enforcement, and a house of representatives filled with people so corrupt they don't bat an eye at the drug trafficking that's going on in-between classes. Oh, and those hormonal teenagers from before? They're fucking brilliant, bat-shit insane artists who are hell bent on doing whatever it takes to get to the top._

_Welcome to Ace, baby._

_If you're still interested in attending (which of course you are, or else you're crazier than the infamous _alumni_, if that's even possible) you're gonna have to pick a magnet and a major. Of course, if you're applying for Ace, you better damn well know what magnet you're going for, because otherwise you don't belong here. It's gotta be your entire life – it will be for the next four years, after all – and if you're not sleeping, eating, breathing it, you aren't gonna make it. Your magnet decides what classes you'll be taking, and your major announces what you'll be doing for the rest of your life. (If you don't crack under the pressure.) Almost like college._

_Only worse._

_There are three magnets: Visual Media Arts, Communication Media Arts, and the Youth Performing Arts School. Also known as the VMAs, CMAs or Com, and YPAS (say it with me: why-pass), respectively. VMAs are the standard artsy kids, and they also happen to be the only thing the Com and YPAS kids can agree on (read: mutually hate). They're stereotypically the lowest rung of the intellectual ladder, and the least 'dedicated' – comparatively speaking, of course. There aren't any required after-school classes (or any available, for that matter) for VMAs, so they're seen as getting off the hook easily. These are the painters, sculptors, fashion designers, and photographers. Mostly harmless._

_Com students are a whole 'nother breed. Though technically included in the Fine Arts, these people are writers at heart. There are only four majors available – Graphic Design, Creative Writing, Journalism (Broadcast/Newspaper), and Photojournalism (which is pretty much a minor anyways). CMAs are analytical, critical, and harsh, due to the mini-business simulation style that all their upper-level classes are run. They're not afraid to tell you the what's what of pretty much anything, and are generally seen as contemptuous and unapproachable, though this is mostly due to the YPAS students' doing. Despite pretty much hating any outsiders (and most of the insiders, too) Com kids are the only ones allowed to take classes from other magnets._

_Ah, YPAS. The freakiest bunch of weirdoes ever to gather in one place. Actors, orchestral musicians, dancers, pianists, and techies galore, all competing against each other. YPAS is almost as large as its sister magnets combined, and has its own wing exclusively for YPAS classes. It has the widest range of majors, encompassing everything from Production and Design to Music Theory. The 'face' of YPAS is its prestigious Theatre department, made up of the Production and Design and Theatre Arts majors. Friendships tend to be made within the magnet but across majors, because befriending someone in your own major is like befriending your bitterest rival: A Very Bad Idea._

_And then there are the teachers. Almost every single magnet teacher is an alumnus of some sorts - they have to be, to be able to survive. All of them are rumored to be insane, or at least halfway there. Many of them aren't any better than the students in terms of behavior; for example, the Department Head of the CMAs is reportedly an opium addict, and Seishiro Sakurazuka had been lost to civilization for nearly five years before he returned to teach and direct at YPAS. Hanging out with the alumni at Ace or during a reunion is described as something akin to having your brains bashed in with a slice of lemon wrapped around a gold bar. Migraine-inducing, somewhat rewarding, and possibly fruity._

_Not to mention the fact that, like the rest of this city, three-quarters of the institution is corrupted by the mob. Famous students get away with peddling drugs in the hallways, and all kinds of illegal transactions are tactfully ignored by higher-ups. The administration is almost exclusively mob bosses. The city of Ames is filled with the most fantastic, brilliant, crazy, corrupted people ever to gather, and Aceline is no exception._

_The trick to avoiding getting on the wrong side of anyone when you're stuck floating between all the perfectly grouped, pre-cut cliques is to be friends with everyone and no one. Friendship is a façade here, and relationships are strictly not done. Last names go as the standard form of address – except among the unusually close acquaintances – because people stick to a strange sort of formality that is not allowed to be crossed._

_There are only four double-length classes a day in alternating sets of 'Red' and 'White'. Survive the school day and you're good to go - because at Ace, you've either got hobbies or a social life. Although most people pick social life, their magnet is very time-consuming. After-school labs and extracurriculars (purely academic ones, of course) take up as much as an additional three hours per day._

Of course, surviving four classes and lunch is a lot harder than it sounds.

~-~

Fai walks with Subaru down the long corridor to the YPAS auditorium. It's a companionable sort of silence; neither is particularly prone to babble if the situation doesn't require it, which seems to surprise Subaru. Then again, he thinks, Fai doesn't seem to be much of a morning person. It's simply convenient, having homerooms frighteningly close considering their alphabetical distance and newfound camaraderie.

"Good morning, Subaru-mine!"

Subaru rapidly turns the same shade of red as Fai's burgundy sweatshirt.

Fai smiles easily, shifting his libretto from the crook of his elbow to his hand. "G'morning, Sakurazuka-san. How's life?"

Seishiro beams back. "Wonderfully, Fai. And call me Seishiro – even Subaru-mine does! Are you ready to begin work on the upcoming play, Subaru? I heard that the infamous Imonoyama-what's-his-name was helping with some of the preliminary designs."

"G-good morning, Sakuraz - I mean, Seishiro. I've got some sketches here in my bag," Subaru stutters, slightly disoriented by Seishiro's overwhelming presence so early in the day. Production and Design is his favorite class – it is his major, after all – but he's no more of a morning person than Fai, and first block is not his strong suit.

"Perfect! We'll be off then – wouldn't want to be late for my own class. I do happen to be the teacher, you see, so it'd be rather embarrassing," he chirps, slinging an arm around Subaru's shoulder.

Fai looks on amusedly as Subaru's eyes widen even further. "Seishiro, you didn't try and make the coffee yourself this morning, did you? With your sweet tooth, you always end up putting too much sugar in it or... something and it makes you kind of... kind of hyper," he squeaks out, shifting his gaze from Seishiro's overly bright face to the hand on his shoulder and back to Seishiro's grin.

"But I was so thirsty, Subaru-mine," the teacher whines, the perfect image of a stubborn, overgrown six year old.

"Talk to you later, Subaru-kun," Fai says, beaming brightly enough to match Seishiro's earlier grins. "I've gotta be off to warm up for class. We're working on musicals at the moment, so I've got vocal exercises to practice. You know how it is."

"F-fai!" Subaru manages, shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably.

Seishiro only leans more heavily on the much shorter boy. "Goodbye then, Fai!" he says, turning the both of them around to head down the left hallway where the backstage entrances are. "Hm, Subaru-kun. That's got a bit of a ring to it, don't you think?"

Subaru is much too busy blushing and fidgeting to notice the wink his teacher throws over one shoulder at Fai.

Fai laughs all the way to the auditorium. Actors, indeed.

~-~

"Good morning, Kamui."

Kamui stoically ignores the sing-song voice, choosing instead to stare intensely at his blank paper.

"You know, it's impolite to ignore someone when they're talking to you." Large arms wrap around him from behind, and Kamui resists the urge to move away so that the other's chin isn't digging into his shoulder. "I'm just trying to be nice. You looked so lonely over here in the corner."

The voice is condescending and mocking, and Kamui snorts softly at the hated familiarity. "Go away, _Monou_," he stresses, pointedly not moving from his somewhat slouched position over his desk.

"Why so cold, Kamui? I thought we knew each other too well to go by last names now. Call me Fuuma."

Kamui feels the chuckle vibrate against his neck and doesn't manage to suppress a shiver. "Just go away, Monou. I'm tired. I'm busy. And I most certainly don't need you hanging over me while I work on this assignment."

Fuuma's chin digs into his shoulder a little more, and Kamui just knows he's looking down the bridge of his nose over those stupid fake glasses. "Oh, I see. At your current rate of progress, it will take a rather long time to complete. Seeing as how, y'know, you're not even started."

"Fuuma, you bastard," he hisses, finally snapping. "Get off of me, now."

There's a grin plastered to Fuuma's face as he stands, stretching in an almost cat-like manner. "See, it's not that hard, really. Fuu-ma. Two syllables, y'know? Told'ja you could do it."

"Don't you have homework to do? Classes to get ready for? _Other_ people to molest?"

"It's only second block, dear. What kind of class do you think I have first?"

Kamui snorts again, rolling his shoulders. "You never do your homework until the class before or the actual class it's due. Like you'd spend time on something as trivial as _school_. There is absolutely no way you got all that Chinese shit finished last night. I barely did with Subaru's help."

"You know me so well, Kamui-mine. I'm doing that during the lecture, you see. I've got it all planned out." Fuuma taps his temple, still too far into Kamui's personal space to be comfortable.

"Don't call me that. You sound like Sakurazuka and my brother." Kamui shudders, trying to turn his back to Fuuma but not able to maneuver well enough in the desk. "Honestly, I don't know why Subaru puts up with him all the time."

"Mm, I suppose it does make sense. We do see a lot of each other at rehearsals and such. You know, you're really famous for being really scary but I think Subaru trumps you in that respect; god forbid one of the frosh dares to mess with the prop table if they aren't playing gopher for the actor to whom that prop belongs. I'm rather glad not to be a techie."

"Subaru's not some pushover. And if he ever did decide to get mad at you, then you'd certainly deserve whatever you got," Kamui growls.

"Probably." Fuuma smiles, and if it'd been anyone but Kamui the person on the receiving end would've probabaly melted. Before Kamui can even react to that strange statement, Fuuma abruptly steps back. "Well, Shigetaka's here and as you know I've got a bunch of homework to do so see you later."

Kamui stares after him for a brief moment before returning his attention to the blank paper.

~-~

"You're going to have to make all of these up, Suwa, so you've got until Monday to turn it in. Six prints of household objects, and the essay that you were assigned last week," Takeshi says, handing over Kurogane's portfolio.

Kurogane nods sullenly, annoyed about having so much make-up work. He hopes that Shukaido got it right – he is a sub, after all – because he's not doing this assignment over twice just because he cut class two days straight.

Shukaido sighs as he goes back to straightening his desk, watching Higashikunimaru out of the corner of his eyes. It figures they'd get stuck subbing together in the only joint classroom in the entire school. Fortunately, the lunch bell rings and Kentaro stops whatever he was doing to wave at the quickly retreating students.

"Eat plenty of fruits and vegetables," Takeshi says to the crowd, leaning back in his chair. Thank god for lunch. Kentaro is hard enough to keep in line when there aren't fifty other kids around. (The idiotic 'Kenpi' counts as a kid.)

"And don't do drugs!" Kentaro calls.

Takeshi stands up and smacks him in the back of the head with a rolled-up magazine faster than Kentaro can say 'Erii Chusonji'.

Turning his back to the insane subs, Kurgane shuffles his prints back into his folders. Sometimes he wonders if he's the only sane man left in the entire god-forsaken country. After fifteen consecutive hours of Fai and Kamui's outright kindness this morning and the subs and Tomoyo and everything, he's seriously starting to doubt his own judgment.

Kurogane sighs, hoisting his backpack over one shoulder. Sure, he loves Photography II, but today's subs are some of the more insane ones. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the main Studio Arts room holds two classes at once, and Kentaro Higashikunimaru and Takeshi Shukaido are positively notorious for their somewhat twisted history. And Tomoyo's incessant babbling on about the damnable Flowright Floater on top of the lecture for cutting class yesterday – she didn't even let him voice his twenty-four hour virus excuse before beginning – isn't helping his headache any, either.

"Ah, Kuro-wan! I didn't realize you had second lunch on white days!"

Speak of the devil. "You damn well knew. If you didn't use your freaky memory thing, then Tomoyo blabbed it to you. She heard about the whole deal last night and wouldn't stop talking about it while we were working on our portfolios," Kurogane huffs, stomping a little louder than necessary down the now-empty stairwell.

Fai grabs Kurogane's hand, tugging him down the stairs so suddenly and forcefully that he nearly falls over. "Allons-y! En route! Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so – so we'd better hurry if you want any dessert!" he shouts, racing down the stairs, dragging a very irritated sophomore behind him.

Ichihara would probably say it was fated, but Kamui isn't into that whole destiny thing. To him, life is all about choices: what you choose to do affects what will happen, and that's that.

Although how he managed to choose his way into this kind of torture is completely beyond him.

Somehow, Fai managed to drag everyone he'd befriended (forcefully or otherwise) at Ace to the same table, as they all coincidentally had second lunch on white days. Nekoi, Li, the younger Kinomoto, Daidoji, Subaru, Kurogane, and Fai himself are all squished together at one table, with Fai standing at the head like some sort of demented evangelizer, talking much too loudly and waving about like that Watanuki boy.

"Wow, Subaru-kun! Sakura petals on the first roll – you'll be hard-pressed to beat that," Fai declares, pointing animatedly towards a very strange, twenty-sided dice he had (seemingly) recently procured out of thin air. "Here you go, Shiro-kun. Your roll this time."

Kamui glares at the little black dice, Fai, and the faces of his lunch mates. But mostly at Fai. "I don't want to play this stupid game."

Fai claps one hand over his heart, feigning injury. "You wound me so! _Ere-say-pay_ is not a stupid game. It's a very ancient tradition where I come from. Now be a good little boy and roll the dice."

"Where the hell do you come from? I'd put money on another planet," Kurogane huffs. He sits next to Fai – forced down by the insistent floater – and refuses to pay any attention to the spectacle going on around him. "Air say pay doesn't even make any sense. Just like you to make up a crazy word for a crazy game."

"I'm from the Vale, Kuro-pon, so take that. And it's technically an acronym – Random Crap Poker. You'd probably pronounce it _are-see-pea_, but its origin are French so I'm used to using the French pronunciation of the alphabet. Although, come to think of it, that's rather odd considering the words themselves aren't actually in French. But I digress. I learned to play it from the mayor, you know. He's the one who gave me this die – I'm rather flattered you find me so talented, but do you really think I could manufacture something like this? Now, come on, Shiro-kun. Just one little roll and I'll leave you alone," he coddles, gesturing wildly.

"Only if you promise to stop yelling nonsense at me while I'm attempting to write," Kamui grits out, seriously considering shooting the pencil he's gripping much too tightly in one had at the floater's eye. Then that Li kid and him could match.

Everyone's – excluding Kurogane and Kamui himself – eyes are on the little black die as it bounces around lunch trays.

Fai frowns dramatically when it stops, scooping it up before anyone can register the result. "Gears, Shiro-kun. You had to give me such a difficult one! You see, sakura petals pretty much trump everything, but gears I've never had go head-to-head. They just haven't ever really mixed, so I've not had the chance to rule on that."

Subaru looks up at the wildly flailing Fai, eyes scrunched together in concentration. "Fai? Exactly how do you rule on what wins? What's even on this die, anyways?"

"That, my dear Subaru-kun, is a wonderful question," he says, sitting down in his seat with a plop. "There's a whole big rulebook somewhere back in the Vale that describes the different combinations and such, though I've never seen it. It's terribly old and complex, so the rulings are passed down by word-of-mouth and general experience. Really, this isn't supposed to be such a public thing but I figure it's okay now, as I'm the only one who actually knows the rules anymore. There are many different kinds of RCP dice, and this one is painted with twenty different relatively common items and various flowery type things. In truth, I never bothered to check. Highest roll wins, basically."

"Sounds like a load of crap to me," Kurogane interrupts again, paying awfully close attention for someone so disinterested. "You're just making it up."

"I am not, Kuro-tan! Here, let's have someone roll a tiebreaker. Someone fair who won't throw the dice to favor either twin – I know! Hey, Fuuma-kun! Would you come over here for a moment!"

Yes, Kamui thinks, if there is such a thing as destiny, he certainly did something to piss it off in a past life. Something huge – like dooming the earth to some sort of terrible fate – because somebody up there really hates him.

Fuuma waltzes over, wearing that omnipresent, god-awful smirk that has plastered itself to his face in recent years. "Hey, Fluorite. Didn't realize we had the same lunch. What'cha want?"

"Would you like to help out in our little dice-game? The two brothers here have tied, sort of – I'll spare you the details –" Kurogane snorts here – "and we need someone who won't throw the dice one way or the other. Bipartisan and that."

Kamui glances back down at his (still-empty) notebook, pretending not to notice the fact that Fuuma is conveniently looming right behind him. "This must be a Thursday," he says under his breath, sinking low over the page. "I never could get the hang of Thursdays."

"Sure," Fuuma says casually, accepting the odd die from Fai and tossing it easily onto the table. It bounces twice before landing on a large, fluffy feather.

Fai grabs Subaru's free hand – the one that isn't holding a forkful of vegetable – and shakes it vigorously. "Congratulations, Subaru-kun. Sakura petals always trump feathers."

Subaru's fork clatters to his tray as he jolts in surprise.

Fuuma picks up the dice, brushing Kamui's shoulder in the process, and examines it, a familiar sort of expression on his face. "Is this an RCP die, then? I know someone who used to know a guy who played it all the time," he says, overly casual.

"Pardon?" Fai gasps lightly, freezing with both of his hands still clasped over Subaru's.

"You from Val-d'Or, then? The friend-of-a-friend learned the game from there." Fuuma tilts his head slightly, looking perfectly, innocently curious.

Fai blinks rapidly, processing this information. He lets go of Subaru suddenly, "When was the last time you spoke to them? I haven't met anyone from my hometown in well over a decade."

"It would've been... Seven or so years, I think? He wasn't from the valley himself, before you ask, just knew someone who was. He was actually from Caen, I think, so it's not as if they'd meet terribly often. What with the pseudo-war between Ames and Caen, you know? I suppose it's not even important now, anyways."

"No, I suppose it's not. Would you like to stay and play a few rounds? I'm sure you'd pick it up quickly."

Fuuma glances down at Kamui for a split second. "I have to go meet Seishiro now, actually. Maybe - what, Monday, won't it be?"

Fai smiles a dangerous sort of smile, so out of place in public, especially against Fuuma's placid curiosity. "Monday it is." Under his breath, so that only Kurogane can hear, he adds, "Alors, c'est vrai. Il est certainement une bonne joue. Et nous allons jouer un joue magnifique."

Kurogane simply scowls at Fai (as if he'd have any other sort of expression with the floater around) as Yuzuriha rolls a leafy tree onto his pizza.

~-~

It's been quite the productive day, Fai reflects as he doodles little steaming coffee mugs in the margins of his history notebook. All things considered, at least. He'd managed not to completely lose it around Fuuma – he's definitely going to have to dig deeper there in case Fuuma knows more than he lets on – and Kamui had been quite cooperative there too. Of course, he didn't get the information he wanted, and it seems he'll have to keep on that trail, but at least now he has an ally.

The Cat's Eye is almost ready to open, and he's even got a decent crowd roped into coming on Sunday afternoon for the costume party opening. (Kurogane, the Shiros, and Syaoran had all declined on the premise they didn't have any costumes. Tomoyo offered to make them all, and so Sakura convinced Syaoran, who convinced Subaru, who convinced Kamui, who made sure that Kurogane was going to suffer with him.) The only regrettable thing about the current course of things is his deal with Kakei and the fact that Yuuko is probably going to ask for more than he's got at the moment in exchange for getting what he wants.

Aoki calls on him for a question on the surrounding geography and he answers without missing a beat despite his wandering thoughts. As nice as Aoki is, he could probably outsmart the kindhearted, bespectacled man in a heartbeat. With his kind of upbringing he'd be ashamed if he couldn't.

He'll pay, of course – you are never given a wish without a means to fulfill it. Someone said that to him once, he thinks, and he generally regards it as being half-nonsense and half absolute, undeniable truth. Probably a quote from some silly idealist like the philosophes on the page of his history book that rests beneath his elbows. Believing that all the world's problems can be solved through rational thinking and well-intentioned actions.

How naïve.

Anyways, dealing with Yuuko is a price in and of itself, he thinks wryly, rolling the pencil between his middle and index finger slowly. The grand opening ought to be near-perfect and life in Ames isn't that bad after all. He hasn't really had a home now for fourteen years and his last ties to his old life were blown to pieces so he supposes considering the circumstances he's doing impeccably well.

All he has to worry about is Monou and Kamui killing each other before it's convenient. And Seishiro's bipolar split-personality disorder. And Kurogane's interfering. And hiring people to work in the cafe while he's at school. And figuring out how, exactly, he's going to get his much-needed information.

So maybe things aren't as good as he'd thought, but it could be worse. He could be back in Caen, or even back in Val-d'Or. Not that there's much of it left now.

But he'll go on and see Yuuko about getting what he needs and he'll figure out how to handle Fuuma and he'll deal with Seishiro and maybe even play a bit of matchmaking in there somewhere too.

~-~

"He isn't, is he?"

The click of a lighter.

"No, as far as I know he's dead. That particular bother was definitely shot in the chest last month, on La Famille turf. Somewhat ironic, I suppose. I had absolutely nothing to do with that, mind you. It's just coincidence that I was there. You don't believe that I'd be so stupid as to kill someone in the heart of Caen, out in public like that? I at least have some common sense."

A pause. Puffs of silent laughter.

"You know what your boss says about coincidences. But aren't there supposedly two? A couple of young, charismatic boys living in Caen under Papa's protection – and doing his dirty work. Ames would be a perfect hiding place, assuming the rumors have a little truth and he ran off after his brother was shot. No one from Caen would dare look here now, with the cities' tension so high already."

A sharp take of breath, and the sounds of another cigarette being removed from its packaging.

"You have a point, but I still find it unlikely. How would he have gotten into Ace? It takes more than a forged identity to get in here. I'm not the only one on the school board with this sort of 'influence.'"

Click. Exhale, slowly. Two breaths cycling in time.

"Well, I'll keep an eye on him anyways and dig around when I go to meet Ichihara later."

"Be my guest. I'll look into the rumors for you, but I can't promise anything. This is Papa's _enfant gâté_ we're talking about. The Fathers absolutely do not allow that sort of thing to get out. Until I saw the body I wasn't even completely sure that one existed. It'll be tough, but I won't even request a payment this time because I've got a bit of an investment in this too. Anything for my nearest, dearest, most favoritest person."

A long drag. Stilted silence.

"It's not like you actually give a damn, though, is it?"

A roll of eyes, and the stubbing out of a barely-burned Mild Seven.

"You _wound_ me."

"I only wish. Just try and find out as much as you can. It's kind of important – to the both of us. Unless you wanna end up with a shot through your own cold heart, too, I suggest you check him out. He's got connections in both cities, which can only mean trouble."

"Whatever you say."

Footsteps, echoing in a deserted room.

~-~

_Intermittent Impish Instigation of Impertinent Informants_

I've revealed the Mysterious Monou's I didn't forget the "imma-be-a-Fuuma-and-strangle-you" moment betwee Kamui and Fai. It's on purpose. And I've also recently acquired the omnibus of Clover, a fedora, and new fingerless gloves. **RCP** isn't my invention. Basically, you roll a D20 and whoever gets the highest wins. Because the die's covered in socks and houses and sakura and such, you argue until someone 'wins' and gets whatever they bet. Oh, and watch out for sneaky-Kurogane-stuff in this chapter. The devil's in the details.  
Oh, and NOVEMBER IS HERE. *hyperventilateNaNoWriMopanic*

**Fai's Frenetic French Phrasebook  
****Allons-y, En route: **Let's go, let's get going.  
**Alors, c'est vrai…:** So, it's true. It certainly is a good game. And we're going to be playing a magnificent one. ('Joue' can also be translated as 'gamble'. Interpret however you wish.)

**Seiichirou Aoki** is from X/1999. **Kenpi** Higashikunimaru, **Takepon** Shukaido, and **Erii** Chusonjii are from Duklyon. Their lines are also from an actual page of the manga, too. (v.1, c.6, p.38 on Mangafox.) **Shigetaka** **Akechi** is from 20 Mensou ne Onegai and thus completes the Clamp-crack trilogy. In real life, **Caen** is a town in northwest France; **Val-d'Or** is in, uh, Canada somewhere; **Ames** exists in my head. (Um, unless it's that place in Texas... I don't remember.) Here they're all in some unnamed country, with Ames and Caen relatively close geographically, and Val-d'Or (the Vale) further out in the mountains. Why choose these towns, you ask? 'Cause the colours match, that's why.

There are **more than** **20 references** in this chapter to X/1999, Tokyo Babylon, Hitchhiker's, Duklyon, and others. Happy hunting!

Oh, for future personality-reference: SeiSub is from TB, Syaoran is Syaoran and there is only one. Ditto Sakura. Fuuma and Seishirou are not actually brothers, as in X/1999.


End file.
